Look at their god’s,
Made of wood and clay,
Gilded with gold and silver,
Adorned with precious stones.
Where is their power,
In whom is their glory,
They neither see nor hear,
Devoid of life.
Idols of misplaced pride,
The work of human hands,
Carved from a tree,
Fired in an oven.
They have no power,
Glorified by fools,
Worshippers of wood and clay,
Dead, ever dead.
Look at our God,
Three in one,
Spirit and flesh,
Adorned with wisdom.
The absolute power,
Creation shouts His glory,
Omnipresent King,
Sustainer of all life.
In Him is our pride,
Who always was,
Who always is,
Who always will be.
Omnipotent and Omniscient,
Glorified in majesty,
Worshipped and worthy,
Alive, Alive and Eternal is He.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem