I like to come back our old place for while, just for few short moments, my Love, and I will move on; still with you but I am now in more familiar surrounding; so many memories here soaked with many tear drops. How many late nights and early predawn mornings I had cried in this place, by your side, with music, with my pc pen, and with all my longing, my prayers.
You have asked me to imitate your earthly life in public, so contradicting to my own habitual desires and shy meekness. But I happily will, I will, for it's the highest honor to trace your own footsteps, around the Galilee Sea of life; the hidden desire I long prayed which was to spend early hours on the hillside just to contemplate on our Beloved Father, prayed for strength to carry on onto the next day, asked for wisdom and words to pronounce. 'But Love, I am just a child in this poetic game? ! ' ' Just trust Me, My child, I will teach; just write down whatever I dictate to you. Love, hope, and trust.'
My Love, I give you my true love and all my sentimental romantic feelings that I had asked and you had given to the heart of this sinner, which was molded after your own, no wonder there is so much loving. Just take all for I now offer, for the grain of wheat has to be crushed to bear much fruit; the sinful carnal heart has to be torn to be made whole again in your own Heart; my love has to be dedicated for Divine Love being multiplied by your grace and mercy.
Oh my Love, all my mature life I have served you faithfully, with a life of servitude, the life barren of all worldly pleasures, only to be filled with heavenly dews. Now a new life has been found in me, a life which has been there always, just dormant, now enkindled like new flames from ashes; the life of a poet who is full of emotions which are no longer can be controlled. Take it all my Love, for I no longer live for myself now I have tasted it; so sweet so precious the new life that I think it is most worthy to offer you.
Thank you for giving me such a precious gift of poetry and new passionate heart; the one being transplant into a militant believer, making it seemingly incompatible blend but actually a perfect divinely designed plan, in which the militant sinner will have the greatest sacrifice which is his romantic life to be offered to his beloved Christ.
I love you, my Love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem