The baby so meek and mild
Is but a poor boy
And just a child
Struggles even to stay awake
Not even a cry
Does He make
But as He grows
He will find
He is the immortal
Righteous vine
Destine to sit upon a throne
To take His place
As Christ alone
(2015)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful! Absolutely love it!