Adora, my soul, the glory of thy Lord,
the Father of the great poetry, so full goodness.
Youth admired my pace,
my song, oak anvil, forged.
resonates, my soul, to the glory of thy Lord,
Know Maker of angelic, benevolent Maker.
Fix to the brim the cup of wine, with gratitude,
in Your heavenly feast, which a servant prays, "
because strangely captivated my youth,
because a lime tree trunk carving a rosy cloud.
You are
The Wonderful, the sculptor carved saints!
- On my way there are many numerous birch and oak.
- I'm like a sunny path, a field planted,
as a young and sharp edge of the rocky Tatra.
bless thy seed in the East and West,
planting, Labrador, your land, with generosity!
That, nostalgia and life, emerging youth
become a fruitful field of wheat, a luminous city.
adore you happiness, the great mystery,
puffed up my chest as the lead,
you let in the blue sink my poor face
and send my string melodies constant.
Because this tune as Christ has arisen.
Look ahead-Slavic-sanjuaneros lights ...
not lost the holy oak leaves, your king is still alive,
because it is master of his people and priest, and it was.
Worship the Lord, my soul, a feeling creeping,
by spring sings feelings Gothic
the ardent youth, the cup of joy joyful,
by autumn heather like stubble and melancholy.
Praise Him for poetry, for the joy and pain!
The joy of dominating the blue and gold, the eternal abode,
because words embody the joy, the great burning,
because pick this maturity, this crop harvested.
Pain is ineffable sadness expressions evening,
flowing with ecstasy when we embrace the beauty,
God bends down the harp, but the beam is broken
in the rock face, "the words have no strength.
missing words. I'm like a fallen angel,
a figure on rocky ground in a marble pedestal;
You
breathes nostalgia to the figure and sculpted arms,
rises so wishes. Of these angels I am.
And yet I adore, because Ti is the hospitality,
prize for each song, the day of the holy idea
and joy-back singing the hymn to motherhood,
and silent word loyalty. Eli fullest!
Be blessed, Father, for the sadness of an angel,
singing the fight against lies, fights inspired by the soul
and annihilate us all the pettiness of the word,
destroy them, and how, as a man who boasts idiot.
Ando in your ways-I, the Slavic troubadour.
In girls play music solstices and laborers,
but the song of my prayer, modulated tones,
I throw to you only, to Thee on the throne of oak.
Blessed be singing between songs!
From my soul and light, blessed are the crops!
Adora, my soul, to Him who has more than covered
my back with velvet and satin of the mighty!
Blessed carver of saints, Slavic and prophet,
-mercy on me, I am inspired tax collector.
Praise Him, O my soul in song, near the goal,
for the anthem is sound and accomplished.
And the song is: Poetry! Poetry!
seed longs as suffering soul gaps,
my ways are shaded by oaks and acacias,
to please God the young crops.
Añoranzas Slavonic Book!
the end is resonant
as Easter, the vernal music,
with singing holy virgin, with poetry prosternante
and the anthem of humanity, the Divine Magnificat.
Read more: webcatolicodejavier.
Dear Friends
As you know, on Sunday May 1,
John Paul II will be beatified.
is a great event that fills us with joy
all Catholics.
To learn more about John Paul II,
I recommend watching the movie "Karol,
the man who became Pope."
may enlarge
http://webcatolicodejavier.org/PeliculaKarol.html
Dear Friends
As you know, on Sunday May 1,
John Paul II will be beatified.
is a great event that fills us with joy
all Catholics.
To learn more about John Paul II,
I recommend watching the movie "Karol,
the man who became Pope."
may enlarge
http://webcatolicodejavier.org/PeliculaKarol.html
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