Do not trust the disciples. They will betray the cause
They will break it apart, will take it, will make off with it
They will dishonour the spirit, they will bury the body
They will not suffer the bones to mourder at rest in the clay.
Do not trust the disciples. Put them from you in peace.
Cast their staves out behind them, and relinquish your calling.
Then, King Jesus, revolt! Send the evangelists packing!
And to Golgotha wend your steep and solitary way.
Не верь ученикам!
Они испортят дело!
Разнимут, раскрадут,
растащат по частям.
И опозорят дух,
и похоронят тело,
И не дадут в земле
спокойно тлеть костям.
Не верь ученикам!
За дверь их мирно выставь!
Им посох вслед швырни!
Сложи с себя свой сан!
Бунтуйся же, Христос!
Гони евангелистов,
И на Голгофу
поднимайся сам!
«He told us no lies, that harsh spirit with sad / eyes and the morning star's name: / he said, "Don't worry about Heaven's vengeance; / eat of the fruit and be like gods." Young men can go anywhere, now, / old men can do anything, / and girls have / amber fruit and unicorns white as snow...»
«He was walking from Bethany to Jerusalem, / Brooding over sad premonitions. The sun scorched the slope's prickly shrubs. / No smoke was rising over a nearby hut, / The air was hot and the reeds motionless, / And the calm of the Dead Sea lay still. And with a bitterness rivalling the sea's,...»
«And once more the autumn blasts like Tamerlane, / There is silence in the streets of Arbat. / Beyond the little station or beyond the haze / The impassable road is dark. So here it is, the latest one! And the rage / Subsides. It's as if the world had gone deaf... / A mighty, evangelical o...»
«The one people once called / King in jest, God in fact, / Who was killed, and whose implement of torture / Was heated by the warmth of my breast... / The disciples of Christ tasted death, / And the old gossips, and the soldiers, / And the procurator from Rome — all gone. / There, whe...»