Let us doubt, Lord, not about your presence upon the earth, we saw you and touched you…you walked alone on water a thousand times…but not even once did you show us your face, the wandering souls are still waiting for you in vain, hands with nails full of dirt, our scattered bones whitening for centuries now on the old battlefields of Austerlitz, of Gettysburg.
All these we know well, but let us doubt at least our own existence, our life and our very death…we were never born, we never will die…let us be in doubt and he deceived. Do not torture us anymore with those awe inspiring images of the end.
(From the poetry collection Notre Dame)
Translated by Edward Smallfield and Vassilis Manoussakis
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