Si yo tuviera el corazón mas blando;
si yo tuviera el corazón mas puro;
si no tuviera sobre mi este Karma
-la negra sombra de un pasado oscuro
que poco a poco se me va borrando-

Que arma tendría, Jesús mio, que arma!
De intangible poder desconocido,
Que arma de amor tan penetrante y fina,
para salvar tu mágica doctrina,
del horror, del pecado y del olvido!

Ah, si yo fuera tu soldado oh, Cristo!
Como andaría pálido de ayuno,
suave la voz y el corazón provisto,
de ese amor, de esa paz, de esa confianza,
de ese poder tan grande y oportuno,

de devolverle al triste la esperanza,
la salud al enfermo, y ....esa inmensa
cualidad de valor y maravilla,
y del perdón volverme una semilla!

Si yo tuviera el corazón de rosa
y de escondidas mieles rebosara,
y en su fragante cáliz se posara,
la virtud, cual celeste mariposa;

si la divina gracia acrecentara
la radiación de mi aura mortecina;
si el avecilla que en el bosque trina
acudiera a mi voz si la llamara;

si la terrible bestia solitaria
su instinto cruel al verme depusiera,
y llegando a mis pies la sanguinaria
a mi suave caricia se durmiera.

Solo entonces Oh, Cristo! Solo entonces
se cumpliría mi destino en parte;
los laureles, los mármoles, los bronces,
las exaltadas paginas de la historia,
los dejaría yo por imitarte;

pues para mi no hay símbolo de gloria
mas alto ni mas grande monumento;
que el tosco leño
en que gimió tu ensueño;
varas de crimen,
que del mal redimen;

Andamio del Amor y del tormento,
pararrayos del odio, Cruz bendita,
talismán de energía, llave fuerte
que en los mismos dinteles de la muerte,
abre la Vida Cósmica Infinita!

Aunque mi nombre permanezca oscuro,
quiero tener el corazón mas puro
para vivir mi amor acrecentado.

Por solo el goce de vivirte amando,
quiero la clave ardiente y milagrosa,
para tener el corazón de rosa,
para tener el corazón mas blando!

Napoleón Tercero Amador.

If I had the softest heart;
if I had the purest heart;
if I did not have upon me this Karma
—the black shadow of a dark past
that little by little is fading away—

What weapon would I have, my Jesus, what weapon!
Of intangible unknown power,
What weapon of love so penetrating and fine,
to save your magical doctrine,
from horror, from sin, and from oblivion!

Ah, if I were your soldier, oh, Christ!
How pale I would walk from fasting,
soft my voice and my heart endowed
with that love, that peace, that confidence,
with that power so great and timely,

to restore hope to the sad,
health to the sick, and... that immense
quality of valor and wonder,
and of forgiveness to become a seed!

If I had the heart of a rose
and with hidden honeys overflowed,
and in its fragrant chalice would alight
virtue, like a heavenly butterfly;

if divine grace increased
the radiation of my dim aura;
if the little bird that trills in the forest
would come at my voice if I called it;

if the terrible solitary beast
its cruel instinct upon seeing me would lay down,
and coming to my feet the bloodthirsty one
to my soft caress would fall asleep.

Only then, oh, Christ! Only then
would my destiny in part be fulfilled;
the laurels, the marbles, the bronzes,
the exalted pages of history,
I would leave them to imitate you;

for to me there is no symbol of glory
higher nor greater monument
than the rough wood
on which your dream groaned;
rods of crime,
that redeem from evil;

Scaffold of Love and of torment,
lightning rod of hatred, blessed Cross,
talisman of energy, strong key
that in the very thresholds of death
opens the Infinite Cosmic Life!

Though my name may remain obscure,
I want to have the purest heart
to live my love increased.

For only the joy of living loving you,
I want the ardent and miraculous key,
to have the heart of a rose,
to have the softest heart!