Hark! Ye sinnerman to saint-hood
In the world at large and cities,
Man in-need of a common good
Free from sin and atrocities.
If you cast on him a hard stone
To gasp living blood from his skin:
He'd bless thee, and leave thee alone
For thine own spirit and thy being.
Sinnerman, 'A saint-hood' he screams
To hover in heavenly light,
Heavenly rays and stellar beams
Of a clean slate; purified white.
To watch himself in faith to grow
Exceedingly 'bove the uproars-
Hell, tangl'd neath his feet in a row
But, into heaven's gate he soars.
Sinnerman, do not be dismay
Or fret about in fear or shock
As seeds planted 'long a pathway,
Be steadfast in faith as a rock.
Planted neither toss to be cast
Nor, cut off like unwant'd xylem,
Saint-hood is present: Sin is past
God shew mercy and forgave them.
Man in-need of a common good
Hark! Ye sinnerman to saint-hood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem