Great tribulation awaits,
Those with dirty robes.
Who suffocate under the weight
Of their heavy lodes.
Burden of hunger and thirst,
Burden of last not first,
Burden of loneliness and sorrow.
Burden of no tomorrow,
Burden of no possession,
Burden of slavery and oppression.
Burden, burden, burden.
My yoke is easy and light,
Declares the Lord.
In Him you walk upright,
That's a fact without odd.
With Him you walk day and night,
Together in one accord.
Wash your robe and make them white
In the blood of the lamb
That was shed on calvary site
For this is an alarm
Those who wash in this blood,
Hunger no more,
Neither thirst any more.
In His presence they are sheltered,
And guided to the springs
Of the living water.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem