Lifespan of a tear rolling down the cheek of
humanity,
soon to become a residue of salt.
All that is known to be real is compassion
how can the good be at fault.
We are the salt of the earth, left by so many tears.
Belonging to the parish of souls delivered from fears.
It is not important, Who begat the begotten.
only forgiveness and the sins forgotten.
If ever to see your face,
full of tears of grace.
For when the saints slept,
Jesus wept.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem