A Cristo Crucificado {To Christ Crucified}


faith / Friday, April 18th, 2014

I found the following poem in my old Spanish Literature book that’s perfect for this Good Friday. It’s called Soneto a Cristo Crucificado. The author is unknown but it is so beautiful. Reading it in spanish is like reading the language of my soul. I read the words and I know what it means, without translating it, I just feel the meaning. It moves my deepest desires and yearnings and expresses the core of my love and faith in Christ. The main refrain echoes in my heart – “Tu me mueves, Señor.” It is seeing him on the cross, given His life for me, that moves me. It isn’t the promise of heaven nor the fear of hell. It is “You”, my Lord and my God who moves me. Your love is all I want. Even if there were no heaven, I would still love you all the same. 

Here is the spanish version with an older English version translation that I found after. 

Soneto a Cristo Crucificado

No me mueve, mi Dios, para quererte 
el cielo que me tienes prometido, 
ni me mueve el infierno tan temido 
para dejar por eso de ofenderte.

Tú me mueves, Señor, muéveme el verte 
clavado en una cruz y escarnecido, 
muéveme ver tu cuerpo tan herido, 
muévenme tus afrentas y tu muerte.

Muéveme, en fin, tu amor, y en tal manera, 
que aunque no hubiera cielo, yo te amara, 
y aunque no hubiera infierno, te temiera.

No me tienes que dar porque te quiera, 
pues aunque lo que espero no esperara, 
lo mismo que te quiero te quisiera.

   To Christ  Crucified

I am not moved to love Thee, 0 my Lord,
    By any longing for Thy Promised Land;
    Nor by the fear of hell am I unmanned
To cease from my transgressing deed or word.
Tis Thou Thyself dost move me,—Thy blood poured
    Upon the cross from nailed foot and hand;
    And all the wounds that did Thy body brand;
And all Thy shame and bitter death’s award.

Yea, to Thy heart am I so deeply stirred
    That I would love Thee were no heaven on high,—
That I would fear, were hell a tale absurd!
Such my desire, all questioning grows vain;
    Though hope deny me hope I still should sigh,
And as my love is now, it should remain.

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