Monday, April 13, 2009


By Pavel Chichikov

The redbud tree
Whose unearthly purple blossoms
Grow on Earth,
Outlined arms of April
Lit along the branches,
Cressets on the streets of paradise—

We look, and only see
The color not the street
Ascending from that place

Then look twice—
O city without end
O paradise

By Pavel Chichikov

To give us wine the grape is crushed
To give us bread the wheat is threshed
So did the Lord of blood and flesh
Make joy and light of what He wished

As from dark chaos He made Earth
As from the moon He made the month
As from the sun He made the Sabbath
As from the word He made the truth
As He made Easter out of death

He harvested as we should live
To grow to harvest is to give

At Cana it was wedding wine
On Golgotha your life and mine

The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov

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