By the moon of april
We sat by fire and pray
Hoping for a day
We meet at the gate
Where sins shall be
Washed away.
The son sitting
By His right hand
At the gate
To judge all wrongs
The weaknesses of
Human faults
And wicked ones
Shall be cut off.
Lord this day
have I prayed
Make of me a sage
May my days
Never go to waste
May the love of
your creation
Manifest in my
disposition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem