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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-09-07 | | Submited by Denis Beckert
A Dacian's Prayer
When death did not exist, nor yet eternity, Before the seed of life had first set living free, When yesterday was nothing, and time had not begun, And one included all things, and all was less than one, When sun and moon and sky, the stars, the spinning earth Were still part of the things that had not come to birth, And You quite lonely stood... I ask myself with awe, Who is this mighty God we bow ourselves before. Ere yet the Gods existed already He was God And out of endless water with fire the lightning shed; He gave the Gods their reson, and joy to earth did bring, He brought to man forgiveness, and set salvation's spring Lift up your hearts in worship, a song of praise enfreeing, He is the death of dying, the primal birth of being. To him I owe my eyes that I can see the dawn, To him I owe my heart wherein is pity born; Whene'er I hear the tempest, I hear him pass along Midst multitude of voices raised in a holy song; And yet of his great mercy I beg still one behest: That I at last be taken to his eternal rest. Be curses on the fellow who would my praise acclaim, But blessings upon him who does my soul defame; Believe no matter whom who slanders my renown, Give power to the arm that lifts to strike me down; Let him upon the earth above all others loom Who steals away the stone that lies upon my tomb. Hunted by humanity, let me my whole life fly Until I feel from weeping my very eyes are dry; Let everyone detest me no matter where I go, Until from persecution myself I do not know; Let misery and horror my heart transform to stone, That I may hate my mother, in whose love I have grown; Till hating and deceiving for me with love will vie, And I forget my suffering, and learn at last to die. Dishonoured let me perish, an outcast among men; My body less than worthy to block the gutter then, And may, o God of mercy, a crown of diamonds wear The one who gives my heart the hungry dogs to tear, While for the one who in my face does callous fling a clod In your eternal kingdom reserve a place, o God. Thus only, gracious Father, can I requitance give That you from your great bounty vouched me the joy to live; To gain eternal blessings my head I do not bow, But rather ask that you in hating compassion show. Till comes at last the evening, your breath will mine efface, And into endless nothing I go, and leave no trace. (1879, Translated by Corneliu M. Popescu)
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