You

You’re gone away, and I’m in desert,
Pressing myself against hot sand.
But now my mouth can’t profess it -
The proud word that’s to be said.

I see my past without sadness –
I’ve understood your sacred heights:
Yes, you’re the Galilee, so precious
To me – non-resurrected Christ.

And let another you caresses,
Let multiply abuse and spread:
The Son of Man still never fathoms
Where’er to lay his own head.

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver
(Contributed by ivan on Tuesday, February 8th, 2011)
 
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