Long ago in the night at nine,
On the dry rugged road so brown,
A donkey brayed on its way
down.
On its back a mother with a baby
unborn
Wailed as it tripped in pain...
Tired with no room in town,
They settled in a shed with no
drain,
It would be worse with rain,
Lucky for they had shoes they
had worn...
Leaving the flock in the green
That had so naturally grown,
Hearing the sweet melodies from
heaven yet within,
The shepherds saw the
importance to journey against
routine...
The wise men refusing to be
mean,
The star and its voice they did
hearken,
Coming to welcome a kid so lowly
born...
Who could tell that from this
dustbin,
A kid would rise to wear a
crown...
Well, yeah, in this plain,
In this cold night with the wind
bending the sole pine,
In a dirty manger full with stain...
In a small gathering in a shade in
town...
A savior...was born
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem