Gautama
Christ
Pablo Neruda
The names of God and especially that of His
representative
Who is called Jesus Christ according to holy books
Or someone’s mouth
These names have been used, worn out and left
On the shores of rivers of of human lives
Like the empty shell of a mollask.
However, when we touch these sacred but exhausted
Names, these wounded scattered petals
Which have come out of the oceans of fear and love
Something still remains, a sip of water,
A rainbow footprint that still shimmers in the
light.
While the names of God were used
By the best and by the worst, by the clean and by
the dirty
By the white and the black, by bloody murderers
And by victims flaming gold with napalm
While Nixon with his hands
Of Cain blessed those who he condemned to death
While fewer and fewer divine footprints were found
on the beach.
People began to study colors,
The future of honey, the sign of uranium
They looked with anxiety and hope for the
possibilities
Of killing themselves or not killing themselves, of
organizing
themselves into fabric
Of going further on, of breaking through limits
without stopping
What we come across in these blood thirsty times
With their smoke of burning trash, their dead ashes
As we weren’t able to stop looking
We often stopped to look at the names of God
We lifted them with tenderness because they reminded
us
Of our ancestors, of the first people, those who
said the prayers
Those who discovered the hymn that united them in
misfortune
And now seeing the empty fragments which sheltered
those
Ancient people
We feel those smooth substances
Worn out and used by good and by evil