O God, perhaps this is my purgatory!
Help me to bear my sufferings with joy;
Let pain and strife become my offertory;
Let not the devils with my soul to toy.
When trials come and tribulations too,
My face must wear a smile that never fades;
When out of habit, mortal sins I do,
Let me ignore the devils’ accolades!
Let remorse strike my plaintive heart early;
Let guilt not make me commit suicide;
Just like you can’t uncurl the curly hair,
Man sins, his actions being malafide!
Make me penitent and do my penance;
Gain forgiveness to see God’s countenance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem