We met him on the road,
The two of us
And we three, being weary,
Found us a nearby inn
To take our rest
He was a stranger,
Rich in compassion,
Who shared his ardent thoughts,
Unlike the common traveller
So wisely he spoke
Of things familiar, of critical events and scripture
And deeply his words
Took hold of our hearts and minds
The landlord looked to our repast
The stranger spoke on
We hung on every word in sheer delight
And in astonishment
His zeal embraced our inmost need
Our bitter hurt and grief
For the loved one who was gone
Our meagre meal
Was placed before us
and briefly broke the spell
There was a silence
The stranger's eyes
Met ours intently
and something deep and hidden
Stirred within us then
The stranger spoke on
And, taking bread,
Gave thanks and broke it
We almost fell
From where we sat.
Our eyes, in that moment,
Were stripped of blindness
We were consumed with joy
As, in an instant, he left our sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem