Friday, 27 December 2013


My pain is great, my wounds are sore,
My life bleeds to its end.”
I’ve come to care for you, to pour
Oil on your wounds, my friend.”

I faint, I feel my spirit pine:
My soul is reft by strife.”
My friend, I’ve come to pour you wine
To stimulate your life.”

I have no shelter, can’t begin
The journey to my home.”
I’ll bring you safely to the inn -
There is no need to roam.”

I lie within a world of harm
And cannot be released.”
My friend, I’ll bear you on my arm
To set you on my beast.”

My money and my goods are lost;
I cannot pay a fee.”
Do not despair, my friend - the cost
Has all been borne by me.”

Out of this inn what shall I do?
When I am gone - what then?”
The innkeeper will care for you
Until I come again.”

My Friend - how I shall miss your face!
Why must you go away?”
I’m going to prepare the place
Where, with me, you shall stay.”

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