Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski

Here you will find the Poem Song III of poet Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski

Song III

Have mercy on me, my Lord, 
For a foe treds o'er me and strives
Mindfully that time and again
I be wearied by all adversity.

Cruelly he treds, proud in his throng,
Stifling me with cruelness undue;
Never's the day I'm free of him,
Nor is my night empty of grim fear.

Yet, be it day, be it night when 
Pondrous fear doth oppress, kind Father,
Thou, my Defender, art my hope, 
And in each need to the end shall be.

Whilst I, Lord, being assured 
In Thy promises, neither blind 
Human connivance, nor fierce threat,
Nor battle's dread would I fear.

Whatever I say, they wrongly construe; 
To my each deed they give rebuke; 
Impious ones have turned all care 
To rendering me most loatheful.

In temples by veiled treachery
Or open offence they conspire
To smite me; my every path they mark,
No safety would they afford me.

And this Thou wouldst suffer, just Lord?
Evil ones are to rejoice in such doings? 
Wouldst Thou waiver bringing unrising 
Ruin to a Temple of such calumny?

I know, verily I know, Lord eternal, 
That my every defeat Thou dost reckon, 
Tears from sad eyes Thou dost retain, 
And dread afflictions' cause Thou dost know;

Work of evildoers Thou turnst to naught,
But to me a kindly ear dost lend,
And brights signs of Thy benevolence 
And constant love to me Thou dost reveal.

Whilst I, Lord, being assured 
In Thy promises, neither blind
Human connivance, nor fierce threat,
Nor battle's dread would I fear. 

And ever to Thee, fatherly guard 
Of my being, fuli praise I'll offer
In fitting song; unhindered, I'll feign
Not giving, free by thy grace, my avowed

Sacrifice. With Thine aid, my feet 
Shall stray not from Thy sacred path, 
For such time as my spirit's abode 
In this frail body be, O my Lord!