Lamentation over Christ, detail Fra Angelico (1400-1455)

POEM ABOUT CHRIST

A Mantegna or Holbein reproduction – where the body is like a landscape.
We are accustomed to distorted images,
To dead appearances, and this landscape is ours.

Again, we crucify Christ,
And not Kazantzakis novel
Do we read with ardent fervor.
Christ is dead – and that is our flaw.

Christ is alive – and the heavens above us
With a sum of radiance – Christ is alive –
They proclaim.
We are lenient with sins,
We do not gather spiritual roses.

The waters of Jordan shine
With fiery and golden brocade,
And baptism embraces
The Son of Man – stand firm!

The path to deification, given
To the Son of Man, we shall not repeat!
In our deceitful modernity –
It would be so absurd. Go forth with Him!

A dove gently gilds in the sky.
The Son of God goes out to preach.
Black faces all around, dull,
A futile cycle of pale deeds.

How can he, born in a cave,
Acquire royal power, dense authority?
The Magi rode, believing in the event.
In vain did hell crave sacrifices.

They rode through the blue – and round –
Snow on camels and donkeys.
Shepherds went – the night blossomed absurdly,
With an incomprehensible joy in their hearts.

... in the office, a scam is underway,
The fat boss rubs his hands.
There are measures for crimes, yes.
Is Christ born in everyones heart?

Master Eckhart said: You could have been
Born in Bethlehem a thousand times –
If it hadnt happened in your heart
That birth – nothing but a story.

Here is the flight to Egypt, key,
Because an angel proclaimed it.
What next? Your heart is troubled
Thinking? The substance of events
You strive to feel – or did Christ
Grasp the wisdom of light in the East?
But the Gospel verses
Will remain silent. However, there is a question.

Here is the miraculous catch –
The teacher acquired disciples.
Temptations in the wilderness,
The word of light canceled it.
Many words
We know, believing that in union
They are with the eternal Word of Words.
Who now will be overcome by vanity?
Few are ready.

... wars raged fiercely on reality,
Wars where they shed blood for faith.
Arrows, spears, as if life is banal,
And love is distorted around.

Christ entering Jerusalem,
Here he cleanses the temple from the greedy.
The sound of communion – real,
We will not know such things, us.
Who was Joseph of Arimathea,
Who gathered Christs blood in a vessel?
Fulfilling the duty of being,
In a bitter, extremely difficult hour.
You are great, Christ – I know, I know,
I am a writer – excessively small.
And – alas, I do not suffer for you,
But I am tormented by a sum of evils.

You are great – to you I turn,
Life-giving word! Revive
The soul, if I cannot comprehend it –
If it is in sin, almost in blood?

A garden, full of lights, and they burn
Torches in the hands of soldiers, and here
Christ is taken, and passions pierce
People – he is full, waiting for something.

Pilates judgment – not a trial in essence.
He would have sent legionnaires
Dressed as Zealots... But this path
Is impossible, even though Pilate yearned
To release such a poor man.
But the heights of law cannot be changed.
If Christ came from words,
Then let it be according to events.

They flogged, fiercely, mocked,
And wove a crown of thorns.
And in a crimson cloud they frolicked
The kul of earthly concerns.

Christ went, he went, bent by the cross,
Blood was created in capsules of sand.
Holy blood...
Laughter, sharp tales,
Torn fabric, and curiosity – where is love?

Its spherical volume is above us.
Who gives today to the poor?
Who fears sin? What – not a flame:
Sin is pleasant, it hardly burns at all.

Its spherical volume of love is above us.
Christ goes through labyrinths of torment.
What enmity have we raised as a banner
Of our ignorance – the question
Is true ignorance – to fail to see,
To separate essence from tinsel.
Worship! Here is your rock idol!
Rejoice – life is a kind of game.

Christian churches cannot
Heal cracks with love.
We are holier! We are closer to Christ!
Interchurch dialogue will not happen.
We see nothing above the roof.
I do not judge – I reflect.
Here.

Here goes Christ, bent by the cross.
Here he is crucified. He has risen. Light shines.
We grow – and we create measurely
The garden of life.
And there are no alternatives.