Oh my dear God of the universe,
You have been described as a God of thunder,
Because of what your rage, at its worst,
Can cause when righteousness runs asunder.
But often I put those fears to bed;
My lusts take control and determine my actions.
Like my blood, my thoughts become red,
And in their fulfillment do I find satisfaction.
Not that I do not fear or revere you;
My strong passions draw my attention to
Your exceeding patience – abundant mercies too;
And though I have ears, I pretend not to hear you.
Please put to rest your burning rage;
Yet keep it awake in my heart, as I continue to age.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem