A man named Lazarus,
A dear friend of Jesus,
Lived in Bethany Town,
And for days, was bedridden.
Mary, a pious woman
Lived in the same Town,
With Martha, her sister,
Separately, but was near
Once, when Jesus came,
This Mary poured perfume
On his feet and wiped them
With her hair, thus honored him.
About Lazarus, her sick brother,
To Jesus, she wrote a letter
“Lord, your friend is ill.
You bless him well.”
When Jesus received it,
He passed a comment,
“His illness will not lead
To death, but glory to God.”
“This will glorify, in turn,
One day, the Lord’s Son.
Jesus didn’t leave early
But extended his stay.
After two days he started
But his disciples warned
To avoid going back
And facing any risk.
Jesus said, “He has fallen asleep,
I must go and wake him up.”
Jesus meant. Lazarus had died.
The other way, they understood.
They said, 'When he's ill,
It's good that he sleeps well.'
Jesus revealed the truth
Then about Lazarus' death.
They too started with Jesus
Saying, 'Teacher, allow us
To come with you there.
To die, we've no fear.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Jesus allowed Lazarus to die that God might be glorified. And yet he cared. For when He heard Lazarus had passed away, it is recorded that, 'Jesus wept'. Touching write, Simon. Warm regards, Sandra