Father...
Father, I was born again in Bethlehem,
But I don't admit my kingdom,
Too much tares and weeds,
And Herod does not interrupt the slaughter of innocents...
That's what the shepherds told me.
with the hope of a just harvest
And they wanted to share a wafer with me,
And where the olive trees grew
The desert bursts into the wind
And we're drowning in the sand...
Father, this is not the land of our ancestors,
So how to save her from evil and ghosts
destroying all sign of life
On broken Decalogue boards...
The faithful hum the carol, but the giggling hyen chokes her
And the laughter of the privileged caste,
providing judgement on everything,
issuing insane resolutions
law-abiding
at the gatherings of the people,
who has fought for independency for centuries,
And they're picking her up present on behalf of strangers?
And enter the temples with a sword,
Soon they will preach preposterous decrees
This unusual intelligence,
Who wants to take God's place?
Deal with Everything Highly
how it suits the rulers,
To teach people not to think...
Father, things have gone besides far in this world.
And the time for the nations to come to their senses, seeing your face...
And held the bloody hatchets
cutting off freedom from shadow and soul,
When tears and bells ringing over the rubble...
When the clouds thicken like a storm comes...
Marek Baterovich
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