If all the world would deceive me,
Still I know thou will receive me.
I still am doubtful that those that know me
are better off in this world without me.
And if I never say an unkind word,
still I know some will think me absurd.
I still have fears that all around me
will see the tears that have found me
to be withdrawn from gaiety.
I can’t be accused of no spontaneity.
For I react daily with my pen in hand
and observe and write as if God’s plan
was etched into my very being
to the wretched things my eyes are seeing.
If all the world were unkind to me,
still I know thou will ere remind me
that I am your child.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem