It should have ended otherwise
With a supplement, a happy end
Now I can only imagine
that there is more than sacrifices
and smoke for God
for us the meat
because it's a holiday
and then we eat meat

Here I am
we said, God first
and then I
to my son
I made the sacrifice
I performed the deed
with my word
Here I am

No angel to be seen

When I feel that there is something higher
I feel, on the contrary, my body

Not looking from the depths
if there is a ladder, but
limitless, and then
I know It does not exist
as higher, but within everything
I touch, within everything I think
and inhale and exhale

What I feel is not the distance
but the proximity of the all
and I sigh from the depths
of my soul, which does not exist
the way I've learned, but
which is bodily, I feel it
when I feel that there is something higher

A rebel or a promise?
Our eldest son failed
we do have to keep silent about him

Another hard lesson
the bosses of the soldiers
are our bosses

We will have to concede
no longer believe
that it will ever be all right

that there will ever be a House
indestructible, with in the corner
a rejected stone

We will not build that house
but perhaps we will become rich
enough to buy the weapons

with which we can conquer the land
as ruthless as the tribes
led by Joshua

Young people are poor thinkers
You must first feed them

on the fruits of that one
special tree of knowledge

of what is useful and detrimental
before they know anything

and once they get that
they understand

that it is the way it has to be
if one doesn't want to remain a paradise child

for whom everything must be ready
in a world without dangers

What is detrimental to that, is good
for humanity, although it is a pity

that many adults do not continue to eat
the fruits of that tree

It's almost impossible to get through
He hardly barely see
doesn't even know he's walking

Under the heavy royal clothes
his back lies open, even worse
than his face with the wound

where an ear has been struck off
A living dead, for ever
holy for his Striving

Men push forward, they attack
the platoon with a lot of noise. No chance
Only a few soldiers are killed

At the Skull Pit, the women watch
the king's lashing
his broken nose against the wood

the deep gashes in his back
in plain sight: a man
you can't call him anymore

The soldiers curse him and
the other two for the slaughter
They cast dice for his gold-

embroidered robe and his shirt
even though it is stiff clotted red
His cloak they tear into pieces

for the winners of fate
Quite soon, he suffocates
His father comes to get him

Seek, and ye shall find
that the answer lies
beneath a new question

After God was found
and defined
as inconceivable
people called: Yes, but
that makes it a belief!
Paul wrote it down:

The old stories are no evidence
neither is the new story
no matter how blind I've been

Go and nail it on the doors!
And yet it must
exist, look at the wonders
around you, look at everything
You shouldn't seek at all
not define, but be aware

be open to it and let it
come and go, then you have found
it

I walk past your house
I look for you in my bed, I dream
of your eyes, your beautiful hair

I grab you and don't let go
I take you to my mother, I long
for your hands, your strong arms

You bring me in your room
you put your head against my breasts, you feel
the pigeons in my breath

The winter is past, the rains are over
bushes and trees come into bloom, they rejoice
and sing with the birds

You take my veil away
you kiss my lips, you lick
the honey from my mouth

You see me more beautiful than the dawn
and the moon, with all my heart
is feed your desire

The sweat in which I wake up with a start
after the waterspout, the howling guy wires
hitting my tissues, cutting them

the wind skidding through shreds of half sail
being at the end of my powers
which are strangled by my thoughts

the fleeing madness
in which I perished
my sobbing SOS

save my soul, darn the holes
I am tired, too tired to think
and too confused to be strong

too weak to hope, too afraid
to let go - I will go down
in the depth of the whirl, I

won't get off with a fright -
short of breath I scream
for grace

Prosperity with obedience:
is that the plan for man?
A family following the father
like the fathers their father?

Or is it a covenant
of uncircumcised love?
One heart, living
flesh and blood?

One heart, one blood
of man and woman
that draws a red line
not to be trespassed

Let's come together
in one heart!
Let's celebrate life
in one song!

The big boat, belly full of colour
bodies, floated up to the clouds
no longer moves around
the high mountain
which begins to grow down

Like a seed capsule, it snaps open
fertilizes the slopes with blood
from the old world, with codes
of the secret of life
freshly written

going to travel over the earth
as little arks, swimming arks
crawling, walking, and flying arks
little blood trunks
full of prehistory

of the world
the real world
not the true one
that mankind
would create

Once again God has compassion
with the people, and with all their cattle

Here I stand, the prophet
of the doom that doesn't come

the prophet of a god who doesn't want
to be defined

by unbelievers
their fault and punishment

Cain, Sodom, Nineveh
the itinerant men

with women who desire
a home with a garden

Their fault, their fault
the most grievous fault

of their judgment, the crosses
of their actions and their looking away

A fault which you cannot sell
for some money, nor for a truth

with a salvation and comfort
for those with whom God is pleased

Dad is crazy, little brother too, to some extend
but the oldest and I are just normal
itinerants like grandpa Terach
from the stories, men

no paupers
like other ibrim

We don't need gods
we are not farmers, no musers
who want to become that
dreaming of land of their own

believing in the Force
of their desire

El Shaddai, Almighty God
dad calls it, little brother fought with it
and they made a deal: total respect
for the Force, land for them

Instead of using their brains
they believe, blindly

There are two Hells
outside the walls
yonder at the source

Children went through fire
for their parents there, knowing and afraid
not to be able to make it to the end

sacrificed as the most precious
that a person can give
to his kinglike god

And on the field of blood at the narrowness
the insurgents fought
themselves to death for their new king

clinging
to the first rays of the sun
while the light in their eyes was fading

and their blood embittered
the water from the spring
for everyone who knew

The oldest sons count
as patriarchs from Adam
Seth and Enos to Methuselah

Cain is a different story
from a time when there were more people
more women to get married

It is the story of the sacrifice
that was rejected
as if God did not exist

so that Cain lost his faith
and mourned for that
and God was sorry

so He forbade to kill him
and other unbelievers
you shall not kill a human being

Moses chiseled in two stones
which he smashed immediately
to teach the people a lesson

with the seething murder
of 3000 men, the blood sticks
to the priests forever

but they had every right
because God wanted
to do it Himself

We know the story
of the great flood
as punishment from God

It was once only
He has promised, He gives
other punishments since then

and like Job and Franz K
believers believe
they are always guilty

and should be happy
that they're alive and
that God does not crush them

Yet God doesn't need servants
but people
do need each other

With faith, that is
the only thing
they can be guilty of

They have seen too much:
the chest, the outside
of the secret, because a secret

has no outside
only by definition
a concealed content

Even though it didn't interest them
even though they didn't look at it
but were dancing, it is too much

If nothing would be done
it will end in stories
about a chest and nothing

that was palpable, no Force
that creates and destroys and
no sacred silence

So the priests do have to
surprise the witnesses in their sleep
in the dead of night

with a a hand on their mouth
and a quick slit in their throat
everywhere in the field

red spots of providence

Were the rain and the flood
a punishment for Eve
and our frank reason, that does
not always do the right thing?

Or are we using that reason
just too little, like when
my husband was lenient with our son
and got angry with the baby?

What had come over him? He is old
and worried about the world
since the disaster, where all eight of us
have been spared

Let us just forget his words
just lead a good life
and found a city of peace
as the center of the whole world

It is a fact, not a favour, to be born
outside a ghetto, wasteland or slum town:

no one should reprove me
for not having cultivated the field myself
not having paved the roads and eating fruit
from trees that I have not planted

It is a fact, no a fault, to be born
inside a ghetto, wasteland or slum town:

no one should reprove me
for having come here
on roads that I haven't paved
to work in other people's fields

and to eat the fruit
of trees that I have not planted

The narrow path is better
I learn from the adults
who complain and go
the broad roads with ease

It's not that simple
as you will learn, they sigh
this is the real world
not the true one, we know that

too well. Cheaters
I think, I don't go along
with that, you walk around
the old treadmills without me

with justdo's mustdo's don'tdo's
the enemies, who are allies
in the weak steps of vice
on which no police is ventured

for one shouldn't be naive
The whole world participates
That's how we small me's
have come where we are and

we have a loved one who wants
to live in an ordinary house
with ordinary children. Traitor
I think, there is no worse

No blood needs to flow
we may as well separate
and combat only in stories
who we are, brothers and sisters

with the common need
for a place of their own and with virtues
that are sometimes vices -
knowing better, thinking to

be better, willing
to sacrifice lives
in the absence of an angel
who stops us

and reading the discord
in the stories, concealing
that we are brothers and sisters
as if we are not

In years of hunger
we workers on the land
long for a good sign

to return
to a free existence
and it has come

Thunder and darkness
The high lords mock
That is what happens!

They let us go
without cattle, we laugh
in their face and stay

supposedly
We secretly pack
go through the villages at night

kill a child in every house
and point with the blood knives
at the gold and silver

as our wages for years
After a quick meal, we leave
a long caravan of wagons and cattle

We make it to the Sea of Reeds
before the army comes and
it begins to hail real stones

Doubters start to moan

O sweet promise! I am childless
yet blessed forever
and threatened with eradication
of my descendants
if they become disobedient
and keep their foreskin

In the darkest nights
of my doubts, I lie down
on a warm stone under the stars
to see how innumerable many
people will be born

I dream of one great nation
though my son is a wild ass
fighting against all
and all are fighting against him

Just in time, order has been restored
but it has cost me many soldiers
What a night, the men are exhausted
They hope and wish it's over
but the day breaks, now

the execution, the exhibition
of the king and his commanders
What a sight he is
in his expensive clothes
with a diagonal bandage

around his head as a royal crown
stumbling through the narrow streets
Today the cheers are mine, with the wailing
of the women and the elderly
the horror on everyone's face:

What have they done? Is it really him?

Quickly, he runs down the stairs
to the budding rose bush
at the gate of the barracks

He cuts a bed of shoots
around his sandals and braids
– careful for the thorns –
a wreath of twigs

for the captive king
He will feel this crown
We'll hit it in his skull

Then we'll finish him
Maybe that will teach them
and we'll finally get rid of them

A wild goat lived in his heart
dreaming of paradise
so he decided to go there
and it was larger than imagined

For weeks, he looked
for the most beautiful place
to live, until one day
he approached the border, a wall

of mountains, and their weight filled
his legs, he could go no further
and stayed where he was
without answer

when his son asked if this
was it, the best, and they
of all people the happiest
here in paradise

Only now that I come back here
I see it as a paradise, this green land
the flowers, the golden grain
all the riches I thought to be normal

Now, the familiar overwhelms
my new eyes, filling me
with nostalgia even before
I think about leaving

Or will I stay for the rest
of my life, knowing very well
that it is soulheart work
to sleep together

wolf people and sheep people
cow, bear, and snake people
It is heartwork in paradise
for enough straw for everyone

It is so quiet outside, never again
will he stand in the loggia, never again
will he look at me, never again

never again will he touch me

I could not sleep, I returned
at the first light to wash and embalm him
his spirit was gone

he was no longer where he lay
and I knelt, embraced his body
and wept the cold cloths wet

His arms were strong as pillars
with bare hands
he could tear a lion to pieces

all the women loved him, they had no rest
walked down the streets and squares
always passing his house

They tossed and dreamed
of his black hair
they grabbed him and did not let go

they wanted to lie in his shadow, put his head
between their breasts, eat honey from his hand
and introduce him to their mother

but he chose me, all night
we made love in the open air
in the sweet scents of pomegranates

The winter and the rains were over
shrubs and trees were blossoming
and birds sang all over the country

Often it was their happy piety
sometimes their excessive caution
or the cheeky look in their eyes
I knew where to find them

as if I could smell them
the confessers, simmering
at the cauldron in their small homes
I filled the dungeons with them

They don't want to accept the facts
and prefer to fantasize
about a divine intervention
They are superstitious and rebellious

I know the laws better than they do
and I acted as a free man
without burden or consultation
With warrants and soldiers

Until I heard clearly: Stop.
It's me. Don't go any further.
Listen. And do as I say.
Please send someone else

I replied
I couldn't see anymore
what I should, what should I
do, in God's name?

It's a command from above
otherwise I wouldn't take the trouble
because life is short
and I want to enjoy it

without fear, despair and wishes
so I must, I may and I can
believe in a happy end

And: there are a few witnesses
who know what they saw
an factual truth
which we share with each other
although it is officially forbidden

because it makes our concerns
unimportant and our good deeds
insufficient, I don't know exactly how

It is incomprehensible. But it applies
to everyone, that's the good news
Whatever did happen, it brings peace
to hearts that are open to it

Miracles are a miraculous belief
in a higher power, fed by the leaders
for the good of the people

There are still eyewitnesses here
ignorant of the truth
of other witnesses

honest people who also
survived the disaster
of the volcanic eruption

that buried Knossos and
destroyed the fleet, but
their voices do not reach far

outside the harbour towns
not into the country
where shepherds roam

and peasants kneel
sacrificing to the gods
of their grandparents and believing

in their own grand stories, clever
combinations of old events
and precious memories

half-truths, healed
by omitting parts, accrediting some
and by diverting attention

It is the tradition, sanctified
by the master illusionist
who the leaders collectively are

Fighting is moaning and pulling
swords from the corpses, wet
sandals, red feet washed
in blood, and that it takes hours

to clean the square and the palace
at night and still
be chased out of the city

Fighting is turning odds
not giving up, but coming up
with a ruse, a wooden horse
a Münchhausen or tunnel

entering the closed city
of the king with hundreds
through the shaft to the water castle

Fighting is attacking again
and again, shouting, hewing
and clawing as lions
over growing mountains

of the dead, because it is near
even though we withdraw
it is near as long as we live

What's in the stars
up there in the night sky above
the city wall and the screams

of the warriors in the square?
Here it is quiet, we fall asleep
but my love hears the dagger men

coming and he calls us awake: Near!
the surrender of the city is near!
The Lion embraces him dearly

before the horsemen surround him
mutilate him and take him away
The warriors flee, fight

themselves to death in the neck
at the well. It was near, it's over
I no longer have a home

only hiding places in the night

My love, what will they do to you
where are you, where is the judgment
that will free you?

No glowing storm from the desert
no seething wrath from heaven
no dawn in the east

only the mighty army
that kills us as rebels
and throws us with the bones

of criminals and losers in the pit
Has anyone prayed and begged
to spare a few righteous people?

Is the city spared for those few?
We who have escaped take shelter
in our right, where we weep
and honour the dead

whose trust has been betrayed. Why?
I cannot sleep, I breathe questions
but don't hear any answers

I listen, listen to me as well
be merciful and answer me
look for me as I am looking for You

do not hide, do not reject me
help me, do not turn me down
do not leave me, abide with me

It's a serious matter
men on the river discussing
and tasting the revolution

The cavalry comes
to arrest the saint
and imprisons him far away

There is a party in that fort
it's the king's birthday
a girl is dancing

She warms up the men
with her naked belly
and has to do a wish

She does not know what to do
and seeks protection with her mother
who asks the head of the saint

Apart from his body, it is
handed over at night
to his followers who sing

of revolution and stand upright
without the foot of the king
in their backs

It was already there, unnoticed
until I started to pay attention

and now it comes in at full
strength during the ceremony

I'm melting before a wall
of a sky high blazing fire

am no longer a body myself
but flowing vibrations of heat

a glowing spirit growing
as if I'm spreading arms to wings

falling backwards a gently
waving bed catches

me, it eats the flames
and covers me with gold

It was already there
my third eye

hidden entrance
for secrets and primal energy

opening for the eternal
light from me

You have to do a liberation
and you must be lucky, like us
moving away under the sign, the plume
of smoke, a pillar of fire in the night
we got hopelessly stuck

between the army and the dividing sea
we became scared, didn't want to die
and walked on, the water was low
it almost fell dry – ahead, forward
to the other side

At dawn the chariots came
after us, down the steep bank
with horsemen and lancers, elated
to have caught up with us and eager
to murder and rape

but to our amazement the water took them
by surprise, a tidal wave, fast
and higher than ever, engulfed them
Mirjam took the drum
the women danced and sang

Ulu ulu ulu ulu
we live! we live!
we escaped!
after all these years
we did it!

Joseph's bones rattled for joy

We left at the right time
the future was open
relatives welcomed us

They shared the loot
and everyone knew for sure
who led them: the Destroyer
from their smarting past

So I go up the mountain
and I stay away for a long time
to make something tangible
as a gift from their god

I tell them
that He has shown Himself to me
as a light, brighter than the sun
blinding to anyone who would look

the Supreme Being
of which I am the high priest
with a half-name in the service
of the half-believers whom I lead

because better to endure
than an open wound
is a half-truth

This year's caravans tell
   that the Great Queen is buried
   with great honour, oh, mama
   without me

This year's caravans tell
   that the Sun King is ill
   his wife too, and people whisper

   that the gods are punishing them
   that they are just humans
   that everyone knows what comes

   of inbreeding, oh little brother
   oh my dear sister, hard
   is your destiny, the Sun is too high

   too far from our family, here as well
   in the middle country where I got
   stuck with the returnees

This year's caravans tell
   that the Sun has been bannished
   from the name of the king

   that he is pale and feverish, with a club
   foot and the backbone of a snake
   pushing itself forward with a stick

   My nephew – I don't know you, people say
   that you are as beautiful as Nefertiti was –
   I pray heaven to take pity on you

This year's caravans tell
   that the queen-widow only
   has her grandfather to marry her

   The king of the north doesn't answer
   her letter, her request for a man next to her
   on the throne that cannot be saved

Expats, migrant workers, people
who are stuck and continue to dream
of a free life as shepherds and cattle lords
in their own land of grassy meadows
milk and honey (the old promise)

The young men long
for the beautiful girls
of the north
while they do the work here
in the delta, where they feel only at home

in the stories
of the ancient god who created the world
with thoughts from his heart, living
words from his mouth, the Potter
who molded man

stories
that knead their souls, giving some light
when it is dark in their hearts
full of old ashes, in which still glows
the fire of the Destroyer

Goodbye little sister, you are the prettiest
No one will ever be more beautiful
You put on a brave face
You leave us the tears

Goodbye brother, I haven't been a high priest
since father abolished the gods
and now that he has been murdered
heaven rests

completely on you, as he wished
you'll be the king of the River
You'll make the Sun shine bright, like I
will make it shine on the coast

where I will bring back the people
of grandfather, goodbye dear Mum
You will lead the family
You are strong, you are the wisest

of us all, we children
of the Light that shines all over
the earth, and the darkness
has not understood

Temple officials have the land
They made it great, but now they let it
fall, into pieces of their own; my friends
are way too expensive friends

Out of caution father gave me
away after my nursing years
to Egypt, the temple in the delta

and when the dynasty seemed lost
because the Ethiopians advanced
the priests thought they were smart
in appointing me as the army commander

But I took the sacred birds
with me in baskets, in the desert
they bit the vipers at our feet to death

We surprised the enemy in his sleep
hit him in its naked flanks
and have won; the temple
cobras arise again

Along the road stands an angel
with wild hair and a mouth full
of astonishment, an angel of stone:

mother, you stayed behind
you've seen too much
of the carbon black sky

The ground shook at night, the door
rattled with angry neighbours. Go away!
father cried. What do you want?

My daughters? Shall I send them?
They are still virgins. He called us
but quickly quickly we left the city

that was stoned then
We no longer have friends
Next year we would get married

To graze the lifestock I move
from oasis to oasis, lugging

a huge hourglass, a tower
on wheels, and I count

grain after grain
until the time runs out, I count

down my despondency:
what shall I have achieved

as an old man? Only that I myself
am an hourglass in the desert

with grains of happiness: family
some friends and the beauty

of the starry sky, a cup
of clear water, a safe night

and sometimes the godsend
of a quail or some honey

Remember only the good, repeat it
day after day, all your life
Always make a new start, do it
thoroughly, forget old thoughts
get out of their way to save yourself

Kill them if there is no other way
Your sons, brothers and neighbours
kill them and leave them
for vultures and hyenas
It has to be that way

Not out of cruelty, not out of blood thirst
but because what they believe does not exist
so their lives don't matter
Your dagger does not judge them
but it executes the Words

Read them, read them aloud
Sow fear and obedience
Expecting
eternal punishment
is wisdom! insight!

Great Grandgrandma, why
did you leave the waterland?
Wasn't there enough space

for your cattle, between the full fields?
What dreams did you have? Mine
are thin, like translucent down

My bed is hard, I drag
water and firewood
and the men can't help but

raid, unrest is boiling
in the blood of my sons
If only they come home unscathed

with a gram of gold for the danger
of the promise of the land
from which hunger drove you away

The shine of their swords
clotted, thick walls conquered
cities and kings, who knows

they were bushes, caves
and huts, village heads, the loot
some cattle and a few girls

No land of cows and tulips
where the grass is always green and sweet
the honey of the young years

when you lived in paradise

Only now, at night, can I kneel
on the Rock of Willingness
in white clothes, the wrong clothes

open and exposed under the stars
no incense and no curtains
It's the holy day, where are You?

And where were You then? Shrouded in a calm
during the storm, behind the heavenly armies
that have not come?

Where was the radiant cloud
to wreathe Thy king?
Did Enoch and Elijah watch?

I wail at the wall
like a child asking in vain
for food or alms, forgive me

Your mercy includes all people
who gave their naked lives, but
You do not answer, You don't pay attention to me

And yet: Help me, help us, do us justice
let us be Thy most beautiful jewel again
let Thy light shine from my face

The winter is over, the men want action
like rams without ewes and without a shepherd
By the fishing lake, I promise to be their king

It takes a fortune, rows of carts
bring bread and fish every day
the campaign begins, we march
through the outer regions

On the Mount of Anointment near the capital
we camp under the olive trees
The saint pours a golden crown of oil
over my head, it is my best birthday

I address the men: It is near!
And my enemies, who do not want me
bring them here and slay them before me!

With stories we make a nation
out of separate villages, we clench the years
together to a proof of divine power:

the crossing of the border river
the access town with trumpet blasts
destroyed forever, the country cleaned
from high to low, in one sweep
like a dinner plate

With stories I justify
myself and the past afterwards
plans for the future included

Daily, words bind us
together to a nation state
If we were silent, that would be the end
also if we would dare
to tell the truth

of the people who lived here before us

I inhale the old scent, the holiness
of incense and curtains, mysteriously
soft candlelight and behind it the promise

of strength, miracles and happiness

Brick by brick, canvas by canvas
we restored the House, for eight days
it continued to burn, the oil

of strength, miracles and happiness

This is what we fought for
have been defeated for, year after year
this is what we won for, with seven arms

of strength, miracles and happiness

Dead my heart is still bleeding
there in the burning sun
the knife, the shiny knife

in my hand and then
the gloss of his blood
for God's sake, what did I do

there on that mountain

I sold my soul to the devil
for prosperity, my nations numerous
as the stars, but not blessed

through my fault, through my grievous fault
my wife died of sorrow
I buried her in a cave

near our tents and the city
that is named after the covenant
my madness

forgive me God
forgive me Sara
forgive me my son

It was an exciting secret
people alluded to it
especially outside the family

but also guests dared to
mention it with all due respect
yes, if that hadn't happened then
there on that mountain...

But I couldn't tell it my children
I wanted to be a good father, saying
that their grandfather regretted his plan
and untied his son again

because because
an angel appeared
an angel of God

but I found that too complicated
so the second time I left the regret
only the angel remained

The deed was too horrible
no father would do such a thing
no god would ask such a thing

and if he should ask it
he wouldn't allow it
if he is the true god

The boy had to stay alive
happily ever after, the oldest
patriarch of all

With his half-brother Ishmael
he was given a place
between the great names

of his father and the twins
Esau and Jacob, the youngest half-brothers
who could pass for his sons

Furthermore, we don't know
anything about him, his short life
he was still a child

there on that mountain

They recorded four hundred
shekels of silver
our grave was precious
even before we were buried

because we are important
in the stories of our nations
but what do they know about it?

They conceal my daughters
call my sons by the name
of the countries around us

everything under the sky
they give a place
as if they were God

but their bones become brittle as well
dust like we in this cave
my wives and children

except the first one, my most loved
his ashes blew away
there on that mountain

Cheers to
paradise
my dad
his dream

Cheers to
the hills
and the asylum
during the famine

Cheers to
my beautiful wife
our children and
the distant future

Your blessings
are mine
forever
amen

Lilith was just like him -
from the clay, not as docile
as me; she left him

She prefers to roam
the world, seducing
men in the evening and robbing

families of their babies
so say the malicious tongues
that blacken everyone

who does not fit in their rules
It's true that she lives in trees
like a snake, I saw her once

at least, I think it was she
who praised me for my brain
and showed me the ripe fruits

With Adam I got two children
rib from his ribs, blood of my blood
The third was later made up

by the false tongues
that whitewash everything
that does not fit in their rules

Adam mapped it out
in the sand: the river
flows to the middle

of the day, opposite
are the mountains, steady
in place

although they seem to float
like clouds on which the wind
has no hold

We followed the river
Life became harder
with worries about the children

and the grandchildren
I wouldn't have wanted to miss it
Only Abel, oh Abel

who was so prideful
to believe thoughtlessly
that he knew better

Good boy Abel
didn't sleep at home
considering himself better

He preferred to stay alone
with the animals in the field
and the dogs as guards

because everything had to be like then
in Paradise, that region
of the stories

he always asked for again

He wanted to know everything about our lives
the wandering about, the berries
nuts, goats and cows

And he had a trick
to make white smoke
With that he mocked his brother

He blamed also Adam and me
for Cain's need for comfort
He taunted him, provoked him

Changing one's name
after a scandal, it works
with time

Cain could do everything
he made tools
grew beans and grasses
with edible seeds and
built a house of loam

He created what he invented
but who still wants to know now?
His name has been black-washed

so the grandchildren just
had to deny him, no
their grandfather was Seth
the only real
son of Adam and Eve

who dug little canals
and made bedsteads
who created what he invented

Usually angels are vague
weak shadows in the head
of the people who imagine them

but prophets have wishes
that force archangels
to do and say
what they need urgently

It comes from God
including the evil
(that people do to each other)

and the devils from tradition
whom the chosen want
to expel from everyone
who is different from them

God is Allwise
He lets men
judge for themselves

about faith and knowing
and the elaboration of rules
for everything about which
there could otherwise be doubts

No one lives for himself
we sing at funerals
We live for each other, the others
live for us and work for us

except the stewards
who accumulate wealth
because they want to believe
that this is best, and because

no one can comprehend
that the creation from nothing
is all, the universe with the earth
and mankind as the servant

of the crop, first in Eden
then outside it, and after that
the second expulsion, from the city
where they worked together

expelled to all regions
to praise God world-wide
with agriculture, as if the earth
wouldn't be good enough without it

Little children eat
from the tree of life
They have not yet heard
that there are other trees

but as soon as they find out
they want to taste those fruits
carefully, if necessary be strong
and swallow it with a wry face

They switch to the new
diet and come to realise
that life is not forever
and not as carefree as it seemed

You always have to choose
between useful and detrimental
have to create a world
like God did

because you want and can do it
because you know and figure out
how to do it, smarter
than the smartest animal

People are abusing and disputing
and this was not foreseen -
an unwanted consequence
of their autonomy

Of course God can change his mind

Away with creation
away with the parting of the waters
in heaven and on earth:
a flood, and over the bygones!

One more time: different plan!
Come on, a new beginning
a salvation and the acceptance
that there just is evil

in man, but softened
by the new progenitor
who promises to behave well
towards the earth and the people

and to be careful of them

It's a wrong story
a local story of wif and wiffor
that has overgrown the world
Only in the East

were wifs and men
spared from the cultural lie
that wif is a hole
in man's chest

continually costing him a rib
poor man, first drawn out
of the clay by God
then by seven horses

I step out of his fantasy
of wo-man, the dream image
a wif has to play
to be watched, not seen

a mann-equin
a bit of fairy, a bit of whore
sometimes a muse to his soul
and the mother of his children

Abel is made of cardboard, a décor
piece for the firstborn
He doesn't speak, he follows

and is killed
to give Cain, the progenitor
of men, a reason to go

out into the wide world
That is what man was created for:
the earth must be tilled

to feed each of us
She is our first mother
she must not bleed

for our deeds, if we
rape her nature
we will perish

very real, not as characters
in someone else's story
then, there will be no other

Hoping for a good life we bear
the daily worries and the hardship

Within sight of the eternity
of everyone's respect and every
delight imaginable, we persevere

And as it is not for sale
the trader appropriated it
It was a revelation

to him that this was possible!
Just in this sacred place

of the despised eldest son
who at one of his father's visits
rebuilt the cube with him

to submit
to the sacred promise
of many chosen ones

God's wisdom is above all
above the impossible, above time
and the sigh of the ages
in which man exists, it is
contained in everything as miracles

in day and night, stars and planets
in donkey, bull, ostrich and vulture
the hippopotamus and the mighty crocodile
the unimaginably many ways
the animals live

and in every drop of water, dew
hoarfrost, rain, hail, snow and ice
No man can comprehend that
nor his own presence
and the course of his life

so tiny in God's hand
who needs not direct anything
for his wisdom automatically
creates - also misfortune
and the evil of men