Cathedrals conflagrated,
Churches have been torched,
By candles consecrated,
Or by the sunlight scorched?
The cross stands still whilst the world turns,
And thus, the flame of faith still burns.
The spires are on fire;
The temples all aflame,
The chapels made a pyre
To the holy name.
The cross stands still whilst the world turns,
And thus, the flame of faith still burns.
The statues of the ancient saints
Stand astride the tide
Of blasphemous blood that Satan paints
With spirits that deride.
The cross stands still whilst the world turns,
And thus, the flame of faith still burns.
Conserve the liberality
Of the souls of yore
To enter their reality
And their aid to implore.
The cross stands still whilst the world turns,
And thus, the flame of faith still burns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem