My mind was dull doubtful
My hands touching aimlessly,
but why Your hands hang crossed
My feet step down to the red lamps,
why did You step up Via Dolorosa
I am asking questions
My mind full of injustice orchestras,
why You crowned sharp thorns
My throat thirsty of power abuse,
why Your mouth drank poison
Asking again
My shoulders picked up loath things,
why Your back hurts wiping
My dress love Armani,
why your body undressed
My faith now conform
You carry my burden in red kermizi
till crossed at Calvary
To cleansing my sin back like the snow white
Since Your love for me will never die
Jakarta, March 22,2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem