Poems (Eminescu)/A Dacian's Prayer
A DACIAN'S PRAYER
When Death was not, and nothing immortal had been wrought,
Nor light’s divinest kernel the world its life had brought,
When yesterday, to-morrow, to-day had yet no name,
When one was all, wherever, and all was one, the same;
When earth, and air, and heavens, the whole world that is seen
Were in the deep abysm like things that have not been—
Thou wast alone, and anxious myself I’m asking now:
Who is the God, to whom we, with hearts most humble, bow?
Sole God he was, when others were not, and in the dark
Unfathomable ocean gave force to light’s first spark,
He is mankind’s great saviour and source of happiness,
To gods gives soul and power and everything doth bless:
Cheer up your hearts! Adore him and praise in sacred hymn,
For life and resurrection from death all come through him!
He gave me eyes most happy that they may see the light,
He filled my heart with pity, with high, divine delight,
How through the world he paces in roaring winds I heard,
I heard in songs most holy his sweetest voice, his word,
And still one thing I ask him from inmost bosom’s core:
That he may now allow me to rest for evermore!
To curse all those who pity will show for me, to bless
All those who make me suffer and ruthlessly oppress,
To those who spurning mock me to listen, and believe,
And to the arm that kills me the utmost force to give,
And he among all others as first may praisèd be
Who e’en my stony pillow will steal away from me.
Pursued by all and hunted shall pass away my years
Till they will have exhausted the fountain of my tears,
Till I shall feel that each man for me is but a foe,
Till my own self thus hated by all I shall not know,
Till endless pain and anguish my heart have so oppressed
That I may curse my mother whom I, of all, loved best—
When utmost cruel hatred like love seems to my eye,
My suffering forgetting, perhaps I might then die.
And if, by all accursèd, I die a stranger, they
Upon the street my body to dogs shall throw away,
And him who sets them on me, that they may tear my heart,
O him, my gracious Father, the highest crown impart,
And him who stones will on me with hatred throw, O give
My Lord, that he in glory eternally may live!
Thus only can I, Father, sing praises thanking Thee,
That graciously Thou gavest this earthly boon to me.
I do not bend my forehead for other gifts, Thy ire,
Thy curses and Thy hatred are all that I desire,
To feel how disappearing my breath by Thine is quelled,
And in the night eternal I traceless am dispelled.