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The Lord gave me a silversmith ...


The Lord gave me a silversmith,
I looked, inquired, searched,
I scarcely made it to the silversmith.
He still promised freedom,
Yes, not me - my people.
Even sent his Son into the moons,
Only where is freedom? I do not understand ...
He predicted to show the Leader of the Chiefs,
Drive with the shame of the Roman eagle,
And Teacher asks to be kind
And doing ridiculous things.
He drives away the traders,
Gives the poor the right to see the light.
He is the direct descendant of all kings,
And He does not care about the throne.
For Him, I am ready to die!
He laughs: for me - live.
And yesterday I rejected my brothers, my mother,
Strange talking about love.
Miraculously not beaten by the crowd,
Wears us like feathers in the wind.
I try to have a support under my foot
And I take the silversmith.
Promised - a talent, or even two!

I see a sad end,
Death for all, torment and fear.
But he leads the chosen sheep
To the butcher, with a smile on his lips.
Okay, I'll save the rest,
If He does not want to save himself.
Casually kiss and I mediocre lie,
That it is necessary to depart.
House of Caiaphas, silver rings
On the stones of a paved courtyard.
They look, as if stinks of me,
Those who honeyed yesterday.
Soon we will step into the Garden of Gethsemane,
And I will see forgiveness sorrowful face.
I clearly know that He will be crucified,
I'm still the best student, after all.
He died! He is nowhere to be found.
How to tolerate such emptiness?
Despair came, Judah ...
I made a mistake. To live unbearably ...

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