a child's poem

Me vuEntanras de ishen ýbasesanno.
	naEntanal o Ancendà vufelis dheènda sil!
	Felis dheènda sil atirene.
ýBasesanno vuEntanras di ishen.

Entan meà pèhn licaSan di iresha dàdhenti.
	Me vuEntanras de ishen ýbasesanno.
	ýBasesanno vuEntanras di ishen.
Dàdhenti pèhn licaSan di iresha meà.

naEntanal o Ancendà vufelis dheènda sil!
	Entan meà pèhn licaSan di iresha dàdhenti.
	Dàdhenti pèhn licaSan di iresha meà.
Felis dheènda sil atirene.

What did you think I wouldn't translate it for you? I will. Let me explain my title too. My little conlang fun goes back a while.

Well, every language needs some form of poetry. I've been playing around with this for a while. The trouble is I have a limited vocabulary. Plus, as much as I would like to be able to think in Zharhiàn, I cannot...yet. (I know, I'm weird.) So here's my simple child's poem in the best English translation I can think of. Oh, poetically speaking, there is a form I am following. It has little to do with rhyme, but there is a little rhythm, but specifically there is a parallelism that I want to continue working on. In fact, it might not be seen so well in English. But you might be able to see it if you look at the Zharhiàn text.

I will sing of God's grace.
	O God, the Creator of all things!
	All things He made.
I will sing of God's grace.

God gives to me peace by His own Son.
	I will sing of God's grace.
	I will sing of God's grace.
He gives peace by His own Son to me.

O God, the Creator of all things!
	God gives to me peace by His own Son.
	He gives peace by His own Son to me.
All things He made.