Saturday, August 22, 2009


By Pavel Chichikov

Why can’t you look and see?
I give you other eyes,
Can’t you see the risen bread
As it multiplies?

O no my loving Master
Nothing like that here,
I’ve never seen You breed Your bread
Although my eyes are clear

Nor multiply the fishes
Nor raise the dead to breathe,
Water is still water here
And sorrow still must grieve

The demons still inhabit
Where none can root them out,
And all must die and vanish
Even the devout

What have you done My children
With the eyes I gave?
We thought those eyes were pebbles
And threw them in a grave

Then I must now retrieve them
For My sons and daughters,
Into death I will submerge
As if it were in water

Here they are, new eyes
For which you must exchange
The duller eyes of death—
But they are fearful strange

They are fearful strange my Lord
And if I put them in
May I reserve those other eyes
Through which I see to sin?

The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov

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