Poetry Is Powerless In Body's World Poem by Liza Sud
Poetry Is Powerless In Body's World
Poetry is powerless in body's world
but is all-powerful in the world of angels -.
there in Its vessels pure Light is poured,
and like a spiral, it will spin forever.
And that's a caret death we should expect
where everything has been done for our dying,
But still it means if He promised to save -
Then only in His Church you will recover.
You should not fall into the cloud of men
and then to angels to recount and blast it,
in the cloud there were the broken rays,
and only in Eternal Bible - answers.
***
Поэзия бессильна в мире тел,
а в мире ангелов поэзия - всесильна.
В ее сосуды льется чистый Свет,
и как спираль она в веках продлится.
И надо смертный карет ожидать
там, где все было сделано для смерти,
и если Он спасти пообещал - то значит
и исцелит только в Церкви.
Не надо падать в облако мужчин,
и ангелам рассказывать об этом,
там в облаке поломаны лучи,
и только в Вечной Библии - ответы.
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9/21/2024 12:41:39 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I acknowledge your poem as an expression of your faith, and that is sufficient reason to applaud your unifying poetry and the True Faith. It will certainly nourish your whole life. And so many poets before our time have fulfilled what you have identified. The names are names of greatness: John Milton, John Donne, George Herbert, Thomas Traherne, Gerard Manley Hopkins, T. S. Eliot, Thomas Merton, et alia. And my list is just poets in the English language from about 1600. You can list the Russian poets of Christian inspiration for me to see. I just listed the big names - there are many others who have written several poems of merit but their names are not recorded and of course some poems are set to music and are only published in hymnals. I sing those poems every Sunday at Waite Park Wesleyan Church - I really sing even though I can't sing in key. I think the angels descend over us with a special invisible blanket and gather up all of the sincere but off-key singing, shake the blanket and make all the notes harmonious and then spread the purified sounds over the dome of Heaven, making it all beautiful. My little story is the essence of Christianity: something imperfect, human nature, is brought to perfection by God's grace and then offered to God as a perfect offering.