The church bells ring,
Christmas decorations are in windows again
and in churches congregations sing
while summer rain
falls like confetti from the overcast sky
and in houses wrapped gifts are hidden
and in the street the last busses past by
and some old people are bedridden
but the true story of Jesus Christ brings smiles
even to them, to the poor beggar child
who with big eyes waits a while before walking miles,
to his parents shack and over a handout his joy is wild
and the God who was man watches with great care,
witness’s people sharing and the jubilance of man everywhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem