The day in front of the pulpit is in my memory
the prayer mat, you pretty in your white wedding-gown,
the chandeliers, your hand in mine I remember fondly
and the words that made you my own
where in love as a woman you were at my side
the ringing rejoicing church-bells
the prediction that God does with us abide
where you did set me before everyone else.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem