The Church of the Earth juggles,
Heavenly - wants to make friends.
John Krestyankin will manage,
will swallow evil and bless.
The earthly church is near,
Heavenly is far away,
But it comes to you quickly,
super-easy, direct.
The earthly church is nearby:
is made of solid bricks,
Around Heavenly - no timber,
If you want now - please come in.
The Church of the Earth is a prose,
Heavenly - as poet's style:
images seem as earthly -
But are blooms from the sky.
***
Иоанну Крестьянкину 4
Церковь земная халтурит,
небесная - хочет дружить.
Иоанн Крестьянкин разрулит,
зло поглотит и исцелит.
Церковь земная близко,
Небесная - далеко,
но она к вам приходит быстро,
напрямую и сверх-легко.
Церковь земная рядом:
твердые кирпичи,
а в Небесную - нет ограды,
хочешь - сейчас войди.
Церковь земная - проза,
Небесная - как стихи,
вроде земной образ -
а как с небес цветы!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That is a miracle! Heavenly churches partake of poetry. I would like to think that the sacred is embodied in the poetry, so that when we do it we are participating in sacred life. It's like the Beatitudes: if you perform them you are blessed because the sacred is in the doing as Jesus taught in his Sermon on the Mount, not in the knowing. (I could not access your earlier poem to this saint: it was bocked. Vut I'm glad I could read this one about Poetry and the Sacred Way.)