-to joan of arc-
when the Lord God of hosts gave you the victory
you drove out the foreigner, and had the king crowned
Joan, your name became renowned in history
our greatest conquerors paled before you
but that was only a fleeting glory
your name needed a saint's halo
so the Beloved offered you His bitter cup
and, like Him, you were spurned by men
in a black dungeon, laden with heavy chains
the cruel foreigner filled you with grief
not one of your friends took part in your pain
not one came forward to wipe your tears
Joan, in your dark prison, you seem to me more radiant
more beautiful than at your King's coronation
this heavenly reflection of eternal glory
who then brought it upon you ?
it was betrayal !
ah! if the God of love
in this valley of tears
had not come to seek
betrayal and death...
suffering would hold
no attraction for us
now we love it
it is our treasure
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