Though with no harp or cymbal,
No bull or ram on this altar I offer.
I still sing with joy to Him who is able,
To bring from the dead he that hath gone
To creator of life and death;
The decider of who is who is not
He makes everything possible unbelievably
Though I was gone He brought me back.
I saw my life ebbing out of me
But a strong firewall He built round it:
A feat, no man can perform;
A standard, no man can meet.
Jehovah!
This is my psalm to say thank you LORD.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem