Erminia Passannanti
"Errors"
Leisure and liberty,
of course, I will,
you know
repent for all my errors and give myself
chastisement
when your last glass
will be emptied.
How did you
forget,
through how many sleepless nights,
my Jesus, my sacrificed one, exposed
on a bare cross,
in wind and rain,
or else
in sunny days,
with nails getting frailer,
skin harder,
no more a man than an icon?
Holding your heart
in the palm of my hand,
it is not for what it does to the world.
Borrowed by so many,
laid down, cold, in a secured crypt,
all made of marble,
shining in the dim light
as if in a cathedral.
Talked about,
abused
a whole affair
of names and places and laws.
But, you impudent,
you, bare footed, slender one,
pale, far too pale,
drained of all blood,
there you seat in front of me again,
talkative, smiling, older,
unwilling to see errors.
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