CALVIN Poem by Ewa Lipska

A slim one. And shy.
Little sleep. Headaches.
He was afraid of fear.

He lived in an age of crime tourism.
Letters of suspects. Arrests. Executions.

A good time for pyromaniacs. During processions
on six sites of meditation
stakes of burning convicts.

Inexhaustible avenues of treason.

The year 1535. In Paris.
His room was meticulously searched.
Confiscated papers. Correspondence.

He's the author of a treatise on the soul's dream.

In Catholics he discerns Satan's audacity.
To top it all bubonic plague. Famine.

The year 1541. Return to Geneva.
Mutual provocations.
Fanatic hatred.

Terror yapping in the streets.

Religion doesn't save him. A utopian vision
of eternity.
He weakens. Weakens more and more.

A dry landscape. A red trickle of light.
Echo of evil.

He weakens. Weakens more and more.
He dies.
Converted into sin.