Laden with timber
He staggered along
Thirsty and weak
For a drink he longed
Mocked by guards was the Son of God
The King of kings and the Lord of lords
But rather than make them perish
Into God's hands he committed his spirit
He was crucified
At the place, Golgotha
Beneficiaries sighed
And standing afar were Mary and Martha
And soldiers were confused
At his quick death
But doubts were defused
As a sword sank into his girth
He was crucified
And laid behind the stone
He lived to die;
Was dejected and alone
He was crucified
And numbered with thieves
Though pierced at the side
Still he lives!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem