Lord, my lord
everything you know,
I don't love summer,
I prefer snow.
I didn't leave your
name since I learned
to chant your hymn- - -
haven't ever shunned.
You tested me
and my patience,
you put me in fire,
to squeeze the essence,
I don't try to escape your ire.
Lord my lord, I am the lamb,
and you are the shepherd,
I want to be played
by you with your touch
make me thy eternal lyre!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The lord is the master and the man is the slave in the extreme The lord is the shepherd and the man is the lamb in the other extreme.... I am wondering how it would be if the shepherd wrote the poem!