I can't celebrate today
Have You Yourself laid Your hands
on the king and burdened him
with our sins?
Delivered up to soldiers
he is sacrificed to whom else
but Yourself, so he must be alive
even though he lies in a tomb
May he be the first to reside
in a whole new world
still empty like the desert
where the scapegoat is free?
May now already be the Day
of Mercies, a new mystery
a new faith, according to laws
that are secret to me
but still are somehow implied
in our unsuccessful endeavour
in Your Name, Your holy Name
which I am unworthy to pronounce?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem