[after the poem, "New Testament," by Adonis,
translated by Adnah Hadar and Michael Beard]
We will not speak His language easily.
He has spoken in both desert and city,
and in the unimportant villages in between.
He has walked in the arid flats to which
delicate, girlish boys have been abducted
where there splashed blood, we are sure, cannot
cry out to God as past Abel's did.
He has walked among the constellated skies,
where the souls of those boys have ascended---
despite the gravity of our cases against them.
He has spoken melodious poems---
as resonant as stringed instruments and
as distinctive as a lilting flute;
and all performing in unison.
He delivers strange words.
He says that he is God's Word.
His pronounciation and grammar is too precise;
not to our liking at all.
We will not speak his language willingly.
I am an Uncle' I have many boisterous nephews to advise.
He is not the one to lead us; we will wait for one of our choosing.
Return, boys, to Gadara. Our sheep have drowned.
We will demand full reimbursement in the courts:
that is, after all, our constutional right---
S P Q R, and all that.
Starward
[*/+/^]