The Burden

(Found here)

Lord, I complained my life was hard and grim,
I begged You take it back... You would not heed my plea.
You only said: “Let it not be yours alone—give it to them,
Divide your days with others, as many as there be.”

So off I went to cast away: to some my coat,
To others bread, or sandals, or my daily fare.
I crossed the earth, my years gone by, my soul laid bare,
And still my burden deepened, my secret none would note.

Again I returned, and in sorrow I cried:
“Lord, the weight increases, too heavy to bear!
I’m crushed, I cannot take another stride...”
“You must not give more,” You answered with care.

“Then what must I do?”—“Now, you must receive.”
And so I began: from some I took their teaching,
From others, their sorrow, their wounds to grieve,
I took all they gave me, receiving, not preaching;

Some hurled at me hatred, a curse, or disdain,
Far more gave me tears, despair, and pain.
I shared with so many their wounds, their sighs,
They gifted me torment, their sorrowful cries,

So much torment they gifted, I could barely contain.
Rarely a light from someone, more rarely still peace...
Into the cupped vessel of my soul, they cast
Only turmoil, shame, and their anguish.

Yet, Lord, the gift kept growing, ever more
—a mountain of affliction and grief—
I cannot bring myself to tear it from my heart;
All this I gathered: from them mercy, and from You a thought,
No care for myself, my worries are naught;
To bear it, You gave me so much strength and relief,
That my burden is light as a feather’s part.

~Vasile Voiculescu