Globalization of Love: A Poem Dedicated to All Migrants
To my son Thank God, the night is here again: One day less of the earthly pain. Inside a lonely candle burning, Outside the darkness lurking, Why, my son, are you still awake? Your bed is made so warm and mild. Just put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. I am but a poor poet, you see, Leaving behind a humble legacy. A flawless name is my sole credit, In the eyes of many a vile merit. Hence, I’m nurturing the faith In the garden of your spotless heart. So put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. Faith is the treasure of the poor, The one reason to hope, to endure. Till the grave breathes upon us, To keep the faith until the end. If only my faith would be the same Balm of comfort it used to be inside! So put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. When first among your playmates You’ll be sent to be enslaved, On alien lands to work, to groan, Yearning to be loved like their own, Then only faith will heal the wound That your tears silently hide. So put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. When you see and feel the hurt Of the shoulder carrying the truth, Mind and honour crushed by the herd While crime is giving envy birth And the cruel finds heaven on earth, Faith is the scale on your side. So put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. When growing up you come to understand You have no home on your fathers’ land, And the space between your cradle and the grave Has been the border for centuries to save, Then find comfort in the holy word: “We’re all nomads and refugees on earth” (*) So put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child. Hope for a worthy home to find, Where virtue will triumph in the end, Lest your fate in this world of the sword Would make you rise against the Lord. Walk with joy in your heaven’s dreams, Take this kiss for the grand voyage: Put your little hands together, And pray, just pray, my little child.(translated by healing wanderer) (*) Reference to the below passages from the New Testament:
- These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them. (Hbr 11:13-16)
Tagged with: Christian • Comprehensive Immigration Reform • deportation • G92 • g92.org • globalization • Healing Wanderer • illegal • immigrants • immigration • immigration reform • Jesus • justice • migrants • poetry