He left the world, he died on wood
Wishing that we would see the good
But we didn’t and now you will see
He died to finally set us all free
For every prayer I’ll make tonight
If only this one could be right
I know that it’s a lot to ask,
But is it really a difficult task?
If one day maybe he’ll come home
Leaving his father on his throne
Not gold and jewels like an ordinary king
The prince crowned with thorns that sting
Every person knows of him
Those who don’t will soon begin
To realise that they have missed out
Then they’ll start to sing and shout
The discovery is so pure and fine
That it ignites a fire in every mind
Everybody who could not see
Will soon become both proud and free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem