SONET TO CHRIST IN CROSS

To love you, Lord, does not decision me.

Heaven by you generously promised,

Neither am I moved by hell painted,

To not be offended by sin, my soul.

You decision me, Christ, Your torment moves me,

Scattered on the cross, temples in blood,

I am touched by the wounds in your body.

They burn and insult. And your death in torment.

You make love in me and that way,

That I would love you if heaven hadn't happened,

I'd be afraid if hell wasn't behind the grave.

You don't gotta perceive to me to love you.

Heart – not for the benefit of worship, but feels,

With specified power I would love as I love today...

Author unknown – Spain, 16th century

He translated Marek Baterowicz in 1993