Rising From The Past, My Shadow Is

Your Voice Is Wild And Simple. You Are Untranslatable Into Any One Tongue.

We Learned Not To Meet Anymore, We Don't Raise Our Eyes To One Another, But We Ourselves Won't Guarantee What Could Happen To Us In An Hour.

And It Seemed To Me That There Were Fires Flying Till Dawn Without Number And I Never Found Out Things-those Strange Eyes Of His-what Colour? Everything Trembling And Singing And Were You My Enemy Or My Friend, Winter Was It Or Summer?

The Word Dropped Like A Stone On My Still Living Breast. Confess: I Was Prepared, Am Somehow Ready For The Test.

Mary Magdalene Beat Her Breasts And Sobbed, His Dear Disciple, Stone-faced, Stared. His Mother Stood Apart. No Other Looked Into Her Secret Eyes. Nobody Dared.