O Love, what shall I speak of you?
A distant dream as sleep enters,
what night holds even in darkness.
Light is your watchword and gift your residing joy.
O Divine Fire, Pillar in the Night,
guide us to your Word, to your morning bright.
Beneath the shade tree, the Sycamore, clings one for the longing of the Lord.
The Road to Zion passes beneath it.
Will a good word go unsaid, a fragrant flower not bloom,
this the Road to Zion?
Climb the mount, dear one, yes, through the Bitter Springs.
Autumn rains await.
Little one, be not afraid for the demands of Faith—Love,
The Roads of Zion call to you: Mercy and faithfulness have met;
justice and peace have embraced.
Autumn rains shall come, to wash the blemishes away.
Faithfulness shall spring in our land.
Justice shall gaze from Heaven with love for the little one.
At the gates to the Kingdom, the many Roads of Zion enter through.
Happy is the man who stands at the gateway, his quiver full,
like the warrior and his arrows, with sons of youth.
The Lord builds the house, His house, not in vain.
His quiver is full of sons ready to serve.
His foes will be put to shame, at the gateways of the Lord.
His love will not be put to shame. His love will endure forever.
The gates of Zion call out, O city of God! What glorious things are to come,
at these, the gates of Zion.
Let the voice ring out of the righteous:
"In you, all find their home!"
There David's stock will flower, a light to reveal to the nations,
the glory of the Lord!
There will His glory be known, manifold grace from age to age,
for love covers a multitude of sins.