On Saturdays when I teach the women at church, we usually sing some choruses that I have "created" from great hymns that I love and Portuguese verses they need to learn. Every once in a while, I manage to translate a hymn nearly as it was. Seldom does the translation also transcend to the culture. But this lovely one worked and, believe it or not, the little 12 year old boy requests it every week.
(Andaiti is another story in himself and I'll tell about him another day.)
Here are those ancient words--a variation on David's incomparable 23rd.
The King of love my Shepherd is, Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am His and He is mine forever.
Where streams of living water flow my ransomed soul He leadeth,
And, where the verdant pastures grow, with food celestial feedeth.
Perverse and foolish oft I strayed, but yet in love He sought me.
And on His shoulder gently laid, and home rejoicing brought me.
In death's dark vale I fear no ill with Thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still, Thy cross before to guide me.
And so through all the length of days Thy goodness faileth never:
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise within Thy house forever.
--John B. Dkyes
This marble table is in the Vatican, in a room full of incredible table tops. You can see why I chose this one!