I am a beast of burden but
I toil for pittance fee;
My skin is thick and shabby too,
I am not much pretty.
Like horses brave, I cannot neigh,
And I can't sing but bray;
I cannot match their speed nor weigh;
I slog so hard my way.
I had my heydays years ahead,
When Mary left her place;
I took her to the manger's bed,
To Bethlehem by pace.
And Jesus rode upon my back,
To Jerusalem town;
The King of Kings was humble, poor -
A horse, he could not own.
I was beside the baby boy
Christ Jesus upon hay;
I heard the angels sing with joy
Hosanna on that day!
I patiently await the time
When God will end this world;
Then I will be a beast sublime,
Praising Almighty Lord.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 20-03-2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem