Thou art, in the agony of death, more powerful than one thousand generals in one thousand wars.
With thy sorrows, thou art more joyous than Spring with its flowers.
With thy suffering, thou art more bravely silent than the crying of angels of heaven. Before thy lashers, thou art more resolute than the mountain of rock.
Thy wreath of thorns is more brilliant and sublime than the crown of Bahram. The nails piercing thy hands are more beautiful than the scepter of Jupiter.
The spatters of blood upon they feet are more resplendent than the necklace of Ishtar.
Forgive the weak who lament thee today, for they do not know how to lament themselves.
Forgive them, for they do not know that thou hast conquered death with death, and bestowed life upon the dead.
Forgive them, for they do not know that thy strength still awaits them.
Forgive them, for they do not know that every day is thy day.
– Kahlil Gibran