Classic Poem

In the name of God—who shall open—
I close the doors of my ancestral dwelling—
closing my life out from the horizons,
closing my God as in a temple!

Oh, there is need of a heart of stone,
blood of hyenas, and a breast of steel,
to speak the farewells that in my throat
are struggling from my brooding breast.

Oh, there is need of a martyr's lips
to meet today
the icy chalice trembling in my hold
beneath my clouded eyes of hope.—

Now is the house deserted;
the elders silently have stolen forth;
alone it is for me to seek the loving Christ,
there with His arms stretched wide—