There is a sweet story best told in bits
A tale better told with my belly prostrate,
And an appetizer in my mouth to hone my wits;
A mnemonic in my hand to whet my memory,
For I wouldn't think forgetting the slightest part
Of the saving water and the scene of blood so gory
Upon that forsaken and faraway hill as men desert
The old and rugged cross at the desolate Calvary.
I love that old and rugged cross
On which he died the Lamb of God
To take the egregious sins of the world;
The atrocities of men so gross,
And their impunity of sin so wild.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very apt at this time of the year. Calvary points to the hope of Easter. Good poem. Please read my poem 'Good Friday' and 'Mother of Sorrows'.