The All-Holy Word of God ranks you first among all people. No one can travel as far as To reach the heavenly halos Holy borders of your All-Holiness on your high throne.
Here, we, the unworthy wayfarers, Lightless in dark lands of thinking Cultivate audacious presumption, Sowing seeds of pride in the spirit. Every day we come across flags of power Fluttering on the barren hills of arrogance. Shame does not accompany The moldy swamp of our sins, ’Cause it goes hand in hand with self-centeredness.
On the path of life, let us mentally bend down low To ant height; A constant course to humility, A lasting breath towards the spiritual breeze. Maybe someday we will be made worthy to behold A glimpse of God-bearing light From the unique, radiant crystal Of your theometorical soul. Let the sincere tears of forgiveness Roll like rivers over the Virgin Mary’s all-pure feet.