by Jerzy Liebert.
(translated by Charles S. Kraszewski.)
The angels drive from Eden bold
Men, birds, and deer trembling with dread.
No more ambrosia, sweet and gold.
They’ve given us cow milk, and black bread.
God thought that quartering black bread,
We’d wring our hands in anger rank
But — bread tastes better than ambrosia
And thus we raised our hands in thanks.
And as the cows on green meadows
Squirted warm milk in jars of clay
In the sweet milk of gentle cows
We found the Eden He’d stolen away.
Thy bright and shining Majesty
Is blocked out by silver songs brimming
With apple-trees, whose fruit forbidden
We pluck and share with lovely women.
Our hearts are flooded with knowledge, joy,
Two effervescent streams that shine.
You gave us, Lord, a cup of gall:
We’ve changed that bile into wine.
The painted arches of Thy fanes
Brood like brows wrathful, in furrows.
O Lord, rend Heaven’s veil and show
Us the bright face of Dionysos!