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I hear a voice asking: Is this Christmas white? The answer comes. Oh certainly, in snow, thick and white, unprecedented cold is coming, where frozen ones will pray for just a little bit of heat. I hear a voice asking: Is this Christmas black? The answer comes: Oh certainly yes. Look, the pestilence hurries to its first quarter.  Man weeps and perishes in sorrow.

I hear a voice asking: Is this Christmas red? The answer comes. O certainly yes. Look, in war-commotion, land regions are completely covered with blood so red. I hear the voice asking: Is this Christmas green? A second voice answers. Certainly yes, with a green passport, a divided world will never again be reconciled.  Look, soon the big ration will also begin.

I hear a voice asking: Is this Christmas blue? The answer comes. Oh certainly yes. On false faith and rituals they have built. Therefore man will mourn under the Judgment. In a snow-white Christmas, soldiers are now running in line, globally.  In a Christmas so black, citizens begin to defy their governments aggressively.

In a Christmas now pathetic-red, covered in glitter. There the Christmas tree is standing covered in human blood. Yes, because man has thrown God’s mercy away scornfully. In a Christmas absinthe-bitter, toxic-green, there is nothing that man can do against their own pollution. In a Christmas bitter-blue, the mass-grave is now dug for unprecedented numbers.