Young Emmanuel to me appeared,
It was a boy with light golden hair.
"Savior the unsleeping eye" will come -
From the distant voices I could hear.
On the way to Egypt He was sleeping,
Angel showed his Passions by a sign,
I don't want to see the Wounds, so bitter!
Let prediction soften this blow now.
He is laid in a tomb on Good Friday,
But still all is seen by Holy Eye.
And from sepulcher again on Sunday
Regal as a lion He will rise.
The Mother of God bent over His bed.
And an angel too, with passion's spears.
Behind coffin people see the Eden,
Where the King of Kings though sleeps but sees.
And in June we celebrate this icon.
Tireless God is watching all through death.
Young Emmanuel to me has come and
showed me the Signs of Saturday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What an excellent poem! Magnificent!