at the darkest, deadest, depressed
nature's hour,
holiness yeasted a light,
a glimmer, slowly seen,
and then hope burned,
and knowing slowly caught.
This is Christmas, light and dark,
and natures' canvas dims,
paints the inner meaning,
born in a cave.
The first etch of Redemtion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The great redeemer, born in a manger lighted up the darkened world and we await in the month of December for its joyous comemmoration! ! An enioyable read! !