Who can transcend the glory of thy beauty?
From the crown of your head to the sole of your feet,
You are covered with splendor of Majesty-
Shinning brighter than the rays of the rising sun.
Chosen as the prime tabernacle,
Refused every stumbling obstacle,
Lived as though an Oracle,
Rejecting every worldly fancy tickle.
Who could have imagined your personation;
That never moved by vain affection,
Accepted a motherly sorrowful affliction,
Yet never resorted to the world's consolation.
Upon thy crown is the glory.
On to thy sole is the victory,
Always before the Most High holy,
Pleads against all rivalry.
To venerate thee in thy majesty,
For in glorious unity,
Thou reigneth with the Trinity
For all eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such beautiful words offered to the Mother of our Saviour; and such a joy to read during this Christmas Season