He who hung the heavens
is now hanging.
He who fixed the stars in place
is on the Cross fixed.
He who set the universe in motion
hangs motionless.
He who came to give life
is now lifeless.
He who was born to be king
is now without majesty.
See the how the Word Incarnate is mocked,
not even a garment to hide his nakedness.
Heaven looks on in dismay
and turns its face away.
Darkness fills the land,
hope, for a while is dead;
but will be reborn
on Easter morn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem