"Unul câte unul: El mi-a luat
Tot ce preţuiam mai mult,
Am rămas cu mâinile goale
Fără nici o jucărie sclipitoare.
Am mers îndurerat pe-ale pământului cărări
În ale sărăciei zdrenţe.
Pân` ce-am auzit un glas spunându-mi:
"Spre Mine îndreaptă-ţi mâinile goale!"
Am ridicat spre Cer a mele mâini
Şi El mi le-a umplut apoi
Cu multe bogăţii sublime
Până ce au fost de-ajuns de pline.
Şi-am înţeles în urmă
Cu mintea-mi slabă, mărginită,
Că Dumnezeu nu PUNE a Sale bogăţii sublime
În mâinile ce-s deja pline."
Martha Snell Nicholson - Treasures
Am găsit strofele astea in cartea "David, omul pasiunii şi al destinului". Am căutat poezia pe net şi văd că mai are vreo patru strofe şi sper să le pot traduce zile astea.
One by one He took them from me,
All the things I valued most,
Until I was empty-handed;
Every glittering toy was lost.
And I walked earth's highways, grieving.
In my rags and poverty.
Till I heard His voice inviting,
"Lift your empty hands to Me!"
So I held my hands toward heaven,
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches,
Till they could contain no more.
And at last I comprehended
with my stupid mind and dull,
That God COULD not pour His riches
Into hands already full!
When I stand at the judgment seat of Christ
And He shows me His plan for me,
The Plan of my life as it might have been
Had He had His way, and I see
How I blocked Him here, and I checked Him there,
And I would not yield my will --
Will there be grief in my Savior's eyes,
Grief, though He loves me still?
He would have me rich, and I stand there poor,
Stripped of all but His grace,
While memory runs like a hunted thing
Down the paths I cannot retrace.
Then my desolate heart will well-nigh break
With the tears that I cannot shed;
I shall cover my face with my empty hands,
I shall bow my uncrowned head..
Lord of the years that are left to me,
I give them to Thy hand;
Take me and break me, mould me to
The pattern Thou hast planned!
Tot ce preţuiam mai mult,
Am rămas cu mâinile goale
Fără nici o jucărie sclipitoare.
Am mers îndurerat pe-ale pământului cărări
În ale sărăciei zdrenţe.
Pân` ce-am auzit un glas spunându-mi:
"Spre Mine îndreaptă-ţi mâinile goale!"
Am ridicat spre Cer a mele mâini
Şi El mi le-a umplut apoi
Cu multe bogăţii sublime
Până ce au fost de-ajuns de pline.
Şi-am înţeles în urmă
Cu mintea-mi slabă, mărginită,
Că Dumnezeu nu PUNE a Sale bogăţii sublime
În mâinile ce-s deja pline."
Martha Snell Nicholson - Treasures
Am găsit strofele astea in cartea "David, omul pasiunii şi al destinului". Am căutat poezia pe net şi văd că mai are vreo patru strofe şi sper să le pot traduce zile astea.
One by one He took them from me,
All the things I valued most,
Until I was empty-handed;
Every glittering toy was lost.
And I walked earth's highways, grieving.
In my rags and poverty.
Till I heard His voice inviting,
"Lift your empty hands to Me!"
So I held my hands toward heaven,
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches,
Till they could contain no more.
And at last I comprehended
with my stupid mind and dull,
That God COULD not pour His riches
Into hands already full!
When I stand at the judgment seat of Christ
And He shows me His plan for me,
The Plan of my life as it might have been
Had He had His way, and I see
How I blocked Him here, and I checked Him there,
And I would not yield my will --
Will there be grief in my Savior's eyes,
Grief, though He loves me still?
He would have me rich, and I stand there poor,
Stripped of all but His grace,
While memory runs like a hunted thing
Down the paths I cannot retrace.
Then my desolate heart will well-nigh break
With the tears that I cannot shed;
I shall cover my face with my empty hands,
I shall bow my uncrowned head..
Lord of the years that are left to me,
I give them to Thy hand;
Take me and break me, mould me to
The pattern Thou hast planned!
http://www.cavaliersonly.com/poetry_by_christian_poets_of_the_past/poetry_by_martha_snell_nicholson
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