My Country

I don't remember the day nor the hour, I don't remember either, Whether awake or in a dream They asked: "Tell us, if you can, About the life in your country.

Tell us of its people and roads, Of the sun and moon tell. Yes, and in general, a bit of everything, So we may know more of that land."

My affairs did not hurry me, And time was sufficient, I told them all they asked, And here it is, my simple tale.

My country is adorned with flowers, As if preparing for spring, And a tree with barren branches You will not find in my country!

My country is beautiful and rich, Gold and clay are equal there! Diamonds and agates are not prized, But truth is precious in my land!

There is no war. To live in peace— You need no spear or knife, And all that the Father gives to His worthy ones, Neither thieves nor rust will steal.

All is different there from other lands, There is no death. You hear no moan. And if in your countries men do die, There they say: "Another one is born!"...

The people of the country wear snowy white, Age and sickness matter not to them! Whoever lived once with faith and hope, Will live in glory before the King!

The King reigns in my beautiful Kingdom, Endowed with fullness of power! A day will come—and your governments Will come to bow before Him!

Nothing will be hidden from Him! The scepter of righteousness is always in His hand! And when He goes forth through the Universe, The sun is ashamed of its own light!

There is no sorrow! There the sky is crystal clear! Beneath the sun sweat does not flow upon the spine! But truly... I myself have not yet been there... I am only on my way to my country!

February 25, 1996