Christ and the Samaritan woman

Гениально

POEM ABOUT CHRIST
Reproduction by Mantegna or Holbein – where the body is like a landscape.
We are used to distorted forms,
To the dead appearing, and this landscape is ours.

We crucify Christ again and again,
And read not Dostoevskys novel
With fervent eagerness; we are busy.
Christ is dead – and that is our flaw.

Christ is alive – and the heavens above us
Shine with a sum of light; Christ lives –
They affirm.
We are gentle with sins,
We do not gather spiritual roses.

The waters of Jordan sparkle
With warmth 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 deceptive modernity,
It would be so absurd. Go forth with him!

A dove in the sky gently turns golden.
Gods son goes to preach.
Black faces all around, dull,
An empty cycle of pale deeds.

How can he, born in a cave,
Acquire royal power, a dense authority?
The Magi rode, believing in the event.
And Hell craved sacrifices in vain.

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

... in the office, a scam is unfolding,
The fat boss rubs his hands together.
There are measures for crimes, of course.
Is Christ born in every heart?

Master Eckhart said: You could be born
In Bethlehem a thousand times –
If it does not happen in your heart,
Then there is nothing to tell.

Here is the flight to Egypt, key event,
Because an angel announced it.
Whats next? Your heart worries
And you ponder. What are these events,
Trying to feel – or did Christ comprehend
The wisdom of light in the East?
But the Gospel texts remain silent. However, there is a question.

Here is the miraculous catch –
The teacher gained disciples.
Temptations in the desert;
The word of light canceled them.
We know many words, believing that
They are united with the eternal Word.
Who now will be overcome by love?
Few are ready.

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

Christ enters Jerusalem,
Here he cleanses the temple from the greedy.
The sound of supper – genuine,
Such we will not recognize, no.

Who was Joseph of Arimathea,
Who collected Christs blood in a chalice?
Having fulfilled his duty to being,
In a bitter, extremely difficult hour.
You are great, Christ – I know, I know,
I am a writer – immeasurably small.
And – alas, I do not suffer for you,
But I am wounded by the sum of evils.

You are great – I turn to you,
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 torches blaze,
In the hands of soldiers, and here
Christ is taken captive, and passions pierce
People – they are full of him, waiting for something.

Pilates trial – not a trial at all,
But he would have sent legionnaires
Dressed as Zealots... But this path
Is impossible. Let Pilate yearn
To release such a poor man.
But the Law cannot be changed.

If Christ came from the word,
Then let events happen according to the word.

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

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

Its volume hangs over us.
Who gives to beggars today?
Who fears sin? Well – its not a flame:
Sin is pleasant; it will hardly burn you.

Its volume of love hangs over us.
Christ goes through a labyrinth of torments.
What enmity have we raised as a banner,
Our ignorance? This is the question –
The true ignorance of seeing,
Separating essence from tinsel.
Worship! Here is your rock idol!
Rejoice – life is a kind of game.

Christian churches cannot
Heal cracks with love.
We want to be holier, in the morning – yogurt,
And we generally like to live sweetly.
We are holier! We are closer to Christ!
Inter-church dialogue will not happen.
We see nothing above the roof.
I dont judge – I reflect.

Here is Christ going, bending under the cross.
Here he is crucified. He has risen. Light shines.
We grow and create
The garden of life.
And there are no alternatives.

Jesus and the Samaritan Woman

Anne, this is the same link:
http://www.krugosvet.ru/enc/kultura_i_obrazovanie/religiya/SAMARYANE.html