<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=589814" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Jesus In Cell</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Last night Jesus entered my cell.<br>Oh, how sad was Christ, how tall!<br>The moon entered after him the cell,<br>and made Him taller and sadder, I recall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His hands were like lilies on graves,<br>Eyes as deep as forests' lands,<br>The moon threw silver on his garments in waves,<br>silvering His big, pierced hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I got up from under the old, gray blanket of mine:<br>- God, where do you come from? From what age, tell me, please?<br>Jesus gently put a finger to His mouth as a sign,<br>motioned for me to be quiet and at ease...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He sat next to me on the mat full of dust...<br>- Put your hand on my wounds, on my veins,<br>On his ankles were shadows of wounds and rust,<br>It was as if he had once worn chains...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sighing, He stretched His tired bones<br>on my mat where cockroaches go.<br>The moon shined through the cell's stones,<br>but the thick lattices reflected stripes on His snow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cell looked like a mountain,<br>it looked like a skull,<br>and there were biting lice, pain, and many fears,<br>On my hand, I felt my head fall,<br>I fell asleep for a thousand years...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I woke up from my abyssal dream,<br>the straw smelled like flowers, like a fresh rose.<br>I was in the cell and the moon was agleam,<br>only Jesus was nowhere... nowhere close.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stretched out my arms, but no one, only silence.<br>I asked the wall: no answer at all!<br>Only the cold rays, sharpened by violence,<br>with their spear piercing me into the cell wall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">- Where are you, God? I screamed at the bars.<br>Smoke was coming from the moon on the narrow trails,<br>I touched myself... and on my hands... scars...<br>I found the marks of His nails.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Radu+Gyr">Radu Gyr</a>, translated by Marius Alexandru<div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=589814" data-title="Jesus In Cell de Radu Gyr" data-description="Last night Jesus entered my cell./Oh, how sad was Christ, how tall!/The moon entered after him the cell,/and made Him taller and sadder, I recall./His hands were like lilies on graves,/Eyes as deep as forests' lands,/The moon threw silver on his g..."></div> </div> </div>

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