Heridas
Cuanto anseo ver a mi Jesús
Cuanto anelo ouvir su dulce voz
Cuando llegue al fin la redención
Con ternura le preguntaré:
Por que tienes las manos heridas?
Por que tienes heridos los pies?
Son heridas con que fuí herido,
En casa de amigos mios.
Por que tienes las manos heridas?
Por que tienes heridos los pies?
Son heridas con que fuí herido,
Por que te amé hasta el fín.
Que dolor causé a mi Jesús,
Sufrimiento amargo en la cruz.
Esta historia de un amor sín igual,
No me cansaré de preguntar:
Por que tienes las manos heridas?
Por que tienes heridos los pies?
Son heridas con que fuí herido,
En casa de amigos mios.
Por que tienes las manos heridas?
Por que tienes heridos los pies?
Son heridas con que fuí herido,
Por que te amé hasta el fín.
Wounds
How I long to see my Jesus
How I long to hear his sweet voice
When redemption finally comes
With tenderness I will ask him:
Why do you have wounded hands?
Why do you have wounded feet?
They are wounds with which I was wounded,
In the house of my friends.
Why do you have wounded hands?
Why do you have wounded feet?
They are wounds with which I was wounded,
Because I loved you until the end.
What pain I caused my Jesus,
Bitter suffering on the cross.
This story of unmatched love,
I will not tire of asking:
Why do you have wounded hands?
Why do you have wounded feet?
They are wounds with which I was wounded,
In the house of my friends.
Why do you have wounded hands?
Why do you have wounded feet?
They are wounds with which I was wounded,
Because I loved you until the end.