Rondeau of the Lord

Rondeau of the Lord

O Lord who seeks to scorch the human soul
By tightening Your rule again and again!
That You are brain-dead—we have known it long.
Who in heaven’s name would fear such a God?
But I will not meddle in that discussion.

We have forgotten how to bring offerings,
Or simply pour out precious oil.
Nor do we cry any longer in stately song:
O Lord!

Devastated landscapes full of crows and carrion,
Oppressive skies narrowing the horizon.
The taste in the mouth is bitter and harsh.

Fleeing the compulsion toward ever more action,
We try merely to prolong our lives
O Lord!

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