On a day I went to a strange church
where a band plays with drums and guitars,
people stood with their hands streched out against the walls
wanted to share your spirit right there with me.
On a day I went to a church
where a godly messenger
did embrace me tightly
but that man is a total stranger to me.
On a day I went to another church
where a man with a black cassock
looked like a bat
preached that you are dead, not that you did rise again.
l'Envoi
Today I went to a church
where people do have your true light
(that is written in your holy word)
and still they are accessory
to treading each other into the ground,
to painting one another black,
to draw out the whip and lash out drawing blood;
omnipotent God, my loving Lord, why?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem