Fraternity-Testvériség, 1959 (37. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1959-02-01 / 2. szám
2 FRATERNITY GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE By BORIS FAST ERNÁK Winner of the Nobel Prize for 1959 The turn in the road was illumined By the indifferent glimmer of the remote stars. The road led around the Mount of Olives; Below, in its valley, the Brook Kedron ran. Halfway, the small meadow dipped in a sharp break; Beyond it began the great Milky Way, While the silver-gray olives still strained forward As if to stride onward upon empty air. Furthest away was someone's garden plot. He left His disciples outside the stone fence Saying, “My sold is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death; Tarry ye here, and. watch with me.’’ He had rejected zvithout resistance Dominion over all things and the power to work miracles, As though these had been His only on loan And now was as all mortals are, even as we. Night's distance seemed the very brink Of annihilation, of non-existence. The universe's span ivas void of any life; The garden only was a coign of being. And peering into these black abysses -— Void, without end and without beginning; His brow sweating blood, He pleaded with His Father That this cup of death might pass from Him. Having eased His mortal anguish through prayer, He left the garden. Beyond its wall His disciples, Overcome with sleep, sprawled on the ground In the zcayside feathergrass.
