I'm a holy, noble man from Syracuse!
I'm the only one without a single sin!
So, I pick up stones and throw them in excuse
of defending God's commandments - I must win...
Those who have no shame are my only target.
Their debauchery just stains my virtue's gown,
so a fine catapult for my words in haste I get,
then the battle starts - what is thrown, is thrown...
I begin to tell my truthful, holy story -
like Münchhausen I ride my cannonball.
If I end up in a swamp I don't worry -
I pull myself up by my hair to stand tall...
So, beware all the lovers in the world
of the power of my mouth and its fire -
it'll come down on you like the Spirit's sword.
I've been born to put an end to your desire...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem