Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Justin Reamer is among those (many) that have been abused. This is a HOAX; this poem was never written by Francesco d'Assisi in Umbria in the XIIIth century. Nobody was ever capable of producing a text in the original language. In reality its genuine author was a French priest, Esther Auguste Bouquerel (1855-1923) . It was published (in French) in the december 1912 issue of the review La Clochette. Please, stop this hoax!