SAINT MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL
The angels, our older and superior brothers are,
The Will of God Most High, their will.
Than light, more bright are they, swifter and brighter,
Of the air on the mountain, lighter and fresher,
In light they are clothed, the light of their Creator,
Tireless laborers of the work of Christ.
For men they are concerned, men, their only concern:
How to God return, the prodigal son,
How, from a strange land, their younger brothers
To return to the joyful courts of the Householder.
Michael, Archistratig, the first among the first,
What Venus is among the stars, he is among the angels;
To every penitent he hurries, to lift him up to God,
No matter how many penitents, he reaches them all.
To serve, serve and serve--for him that is joy,
Even in heaven, service to one's neighbor is paramount.
Service which strengthens life and makes a mother jubilant,
Service which adorns wreaths, unfading,
That service for the angels is joy and celebration
For it is directed to the glory of God and for men, salvation.
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