Oh Father, of my poor soul, make the Bethlehem-valley, of my simple heart, make a crib and of my mortal body, make a stable. Make the jubilating angels, over your birth in my heart, without end or number. Look, the way to the rebirth is high and extremely narrow. But You protect and guard me, You stop me from falling.  

On Golgotha You have already drunk my cup for me, and it was filled with bitter gall. Therefore, Oh Father, of my soul make the Bethlehem-valley, of my heart make a simple crib and of my body, a poor stable. Look, Your birth will resound inside it like the primeval big bang of creation. You are my Love, my Eternity, yes my total universe.