Photo: Wikipedia Commons, Francesco Trevisani, The Agony in the Garden at Gethsemane / US-PD
Why must I drink once more from this same cup;
the one of gall and vinegar;
sour grapes from the vine?
As tears trickle down
I remember the bitter taste,
like an unripened apple
picked too soon from the branch.
The offering of sweet drink
I knew would not last.
The kind and gentle peace
with a mother’s healing touch
shatters like a broken glass.
I beg the Lord for mercy,
cry aloud with a sorrowful plea.
With woeful words I beseech Him
to take this same cup from me.
Christ holds my hand
in the Garden of Gethsemane.
As He gazes into my eyes
I desire to suffer with Thee.
I walk the road to Calvary
stained with tears of blood.
My heart weeps profoundly
as I am united with the Begotten Son.
At the foot of the Cross
I behold the spotless Lamb.
His blood poured out upon the earth;
O the suffering of my Beloved,
not even the Son of God was spared.