Song of Hope
A great flight of crows sullies the celestial blue.
A millennial gust of wind smacks of pestilence.
Men are killing each other in the Far East.
Has the apocalyptic Antichrist been born?
Omens have been discovered and prodigies seen,
and the return of Christ seems imminent.
The earth is pregnant with a pain so profound
that the dreamer, preoccupied sovereign,
suffers with the heartaches of the world.
Executioners of ideals afflicted the earth,
in a shadowy pit humanity is confined
with the brutish Molossians of hate and war.
O Lord Jesus Christ! Why do you delay, why do you wait
to stretch your hand of light upon the savage beasts
and to let your divine banners shine in the sun!
Appear at once and pour the essence of life
over such a sad, insane, or flinty soul
that—a lover of gloom—forgets your sweet dawn.
Come, Lord, to glorify yourself.
Come with a starry quake and a cataclysmic horror,
come and bring love and peace across the abyss.
And may your white horse, which the visionary saw,
pass. And may the extraordinary divine trumpet blow.
My heart will be a burning coal in your censer.
From Songs of Life and Hope-translated by Will Derusha and Alberto Acereda