Viacheslav Ivanov

The Road to Emmaus

The third day drove reddened sails
to the docks of twilight…
Golgotha and a grave in the soul,
Dispute, confusion, and a question…

And pitiless Night stands guard
Over all, with treacherous intent,—
And the Sun sinks in its radiance,
Powerless to overcome its rival…

And the inescapable opens wide,
And the heart chokes in its narrow tomb,
And somewhere something white is shining,
Above the gloom of evils, above the sea of malice!

And the cries of women in white
Hysterically proclaim—what, exactly?…
But with abolutions of denial,
There rises Nothing, rocking in the mist…

And Someone, a strange one on the road,
Accosts us and speaks
Of a sacrificial, dead God…
And our hearts—breathe and burn…

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