Three crosses,
standing on the field,
two for the thieves,
one for the innocent one.
Execution,
the crowd shouts,
soon the crosses,
will be painted by blood.
By the blood,
it will be sealed,
by the blood,
our sins are taken.
Night is coming,
long and fierce,
it will be,
listen now,
before it's too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem