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Friends, take a look at this.
A pauper, on the threshold of misfortune,
Where do your cries go?
Which of your crimes hunts you,
And why must your gut fail too?
A pauper, the fountain of misery,
A drainage of happiness.
Your status has no rival,
A symbol of kindness.
What have you to show?
Where have you to go?
What must you do to blow,
And who must you know?
A pauper, an object of ridicule,
Striving, able, disabled.
Even when impossible is possible,
To take your place only Christ could.
A pauper, if not you, none dies a natural death,
Yet one has to be you in spirit to see God's kingdom.
There lies your freedom,
The fate of those with faith.
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