Spit in my face you Jewes, and pierce my side,
Buffet, and scoffe, scourge, and crucifie mee,
For I have sinn'd, and sinn'd, and onely hee,
Who could do no iniquitie, hath dyed:
But by my death can not be satisfied
My sinnes, which passe the Jewes impiety:
They kill'd once an inglorious man, but I
Crucifie him daily, being now glorified.
Oh let mee then, his strange love still admire:
Kings pardon, but he bore our punishment.
And Jacob came cloth'd in vile harsh attire
But to supplant, and with gainfull intent:
God cloth'd himselfe in vile mans flesh, that so
Hee might be weake enough to suffer woe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
May God help me, like Christ, to strive to sacrifice myself for others rather than, like Jacob, striving to further my own pleasure or gain. I need to die to self daily and take up my cross and follow him. So much of life is paradoxically: he who saves his life will lose it; he who loses his life for Christ's sake will save it.