What tender touch formed butterflies
And rosy petals drenched with dew?
What artist painted morning skies,
Composed, carved, sketched, sculpted, and drew?
The same arm flung the stars like sand;
His shoulders thrust up Everest.
A word, mere word - sun's flame was fanned;
Sequoias, beasts - and earth was dressed.
Soft rabbit's fur, rough rhino's hide;
Wee hummingbird, giant dinosaur;
The same hand made the hawk to glide
That made the mighty ocean roar.
'Twas One created great and small,
He with a fist and tender touch -
The God of wrath who'll judge us all,
The God of love we love so much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
God of love we love so much. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.