There is this noble man who came to earth
His intrepid labour’s fruit brought his death
Albeit his accepted fate they concurred
But then his good deeds they later recalled
Something ought to be on that precious tree
Upon which he did set you and I free
From the ineffable shackles of sin
That pervaded you and I in person
It speaks of that said to be everywhere
That which some human will say is nowhere
It comes to those that do understand it
And it’s what makes their lives here or there fit
`Give me the answer that be real not fake
Thy sensible whish honour should thou make.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem