Hands once raised in supplication
Pierced with nails of cruelty
Knees that knelt before the Father
Rendered helpless on a tree
Brow once knit in concentration
Wanting naught but Father's will
Bleeding from a thorny crown
Bowed to love's directive still
Feet that walked on dusty pathways
Leading him to destiny
Now wounded, torn and crippled
Stained with blood at Calvary
This, a picture of my Savior
Forsaken and alone was He
Beaten, suffering, crushed and dying
Jesus hung upon that tree
Burden of all mankind's sin
Held Him there in agony
Magnificent, His tender heart
Stilled by love for you and me
But He was pierced for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53: 5, NIV
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Stunning poetic adaptation of The Passion & Death of The Lord Jesus Christ...Holy Week is not so far away, and this fine work reminds me so...The work glides like silk off satin...mellifluously from onset to close-out...One observation...Last stanza, Line 1: You have an errant h in front of the 1st word of that line....Otherwise, Magnifico! You keep that pen pumping, young lady...~FjR~