Upon the path
to self-destruction,
noticed I
a quaint obstruction.
Barrin' me to stay my
course
was fear, envy,
doubt and remorse.
'Imagine that! '
to meself says I,
'Tis for those things
I long to die.'
An' so, I set me down
to think.
'This bodes not well!
Were't the drink? '
And at that moment,
my eyes was soaked',
an' a blazin' tow'r o'
fire an' smoke
appeared 'afore
my sodden feet
an' I prayed:
'Dear Lord!
My soul do keep! '
As I fumbled the words
to the prayer of the
Lord,
bespoke he to me:
'What are ye here for?
Now gath'rin me wits
with me eyes
from the floor,
I cleared me throat,
an' this I swore:
'Dear God Almighty,
can you please
forgive this trespass.
As you see,
I knowed not what
I bargained for,
and I am sorry,
my dear Lord.'
Quite sober now
as I could be,
the Lord then spoke
these words to me;
'My child,
from where thy
feet now stand,
look to the east,
where sun meets land.
Beyond those hills
I raised of yore,
there once were lands,
that are, no more.
Tongues that are
no longer spoken
and vows that are,
many,
long since broken.
Now look to the west,
where the sun meets
the sea.
There are mountains
yet raised
known only to me.
Cities to come
that shall never be,
and races of man,
that no man shall see.'
He paused, and I
reflected on these,
then he added,
to sum it all up,
it seemed;
'Ages before
I had ever begun,
I knew this very
day would come.
I chose this hour,
I chose this place,
and I chose you
to recieve this grace.
So, be not troubled,
child of mine.
You were meant to be
here
at this time.
Do you still want to
throw
yourself from on
high? '
'Dear Lord no!
I don't want to die!
Now, more than ever,
I want to live!
And I fell to my knees,
and I worshiped him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem