Читать книгу The Ivy Entangles - D J Gill - Страница 8

I see the face of Jesus Christ my Lord, my God,

In the poor, the lame, the meek, insane,

The desolate and the homeless, the rich, the poor,

The faint and the quaint.

I see the poverty of mankind, the barren soil, the lack of toil,

The endless feuds and war, the fools their greed to meet their need.

I see your face in my dreams; I am always in your keep.

The seams run deep, My Lord My God

I feel your pain, upon the cross,

Your head on your shoulder, the blood streams from the wound of Christ,

You died that we may be saved.

Are we insane to be so very vain? There’s more to gain,

From the care of you and me.

I hear the calls, the instant falls, of murdered children,

The face of Christ is in the hands of priests and pastors,

Monks and preachers, that answers to his call.

The people who carry the cross, and those who pray for

You and me, them and us, the sick and dying.

I see the face of Jesus Christ, My Lord, My God

Your dreams are to be sung, upon the barren land of hope;

Our innocence returns again.

I cry for life, I cry for you, my Lord, My God,

My hope is still intact, that’s a fact.

I crave for your love, from above, the hope of mankind, our universal care.

The message of Christ is very clear; we need to make the people not to fear,

To tend to their needs, to be self sufficient and proficient.

I see the face of Christ, all around me, dignity, compassion and love,

Do you see him too?

Dublin is a city that I fell in love with. It was always at the centre of our universe as we were growing up. It was the place that we would go. At Christmas there was a sense of awe going down Henry Street and seeing the Christmas lights. The atmosphere of Moore Street was legendary. Whenever we go “home”, I always look forward to my time, revisiting the city of my youth. The poem “My Dublin” conjures up some of these feeligs.