Is he hard of hearing?
Harder of feeling?
Father, to your son how then
This love-message bring?
Choristers, counterparts
To what hear ye, high-raised
Would, Earth-hymned inspire
Are where, say your angels
In this place to be found;
Last of hopes expire?
Too sweet! The Saviour's grace.
Its healing, two-fold.
Bowed to, through one sick girl's
Humming*; one's joy-hold.
*Kumbaya (oh Lord, wont you come by here)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem