Judea and the Holy Intervention
Out of the cradle, endlessly rocking
Who now has the strength to stand up against the fall of man?
I was there the day they stoned the woman to death
above the images of the dusty street the land's end unfavoured
amongst the pebble people of the shores
their hands wrapped in white linen
white linen
white linen
their hands in white linen
all covered in blood.
And in the dark of the Babylon towers the people rejoiced
the crowning of the king
while the curly-haired girl of the mountains
was lowered into a catacomb fit for a pauper
her body in white linen
white linen
white linen
her body in white linen
all covered in blood
The cowardly king sat in his throne as the people woke to intolerance.
With two crosses marked upon her door
the raging glory in the eyes of war
man and woman killed in hatred
their bodies in white linen
white linen
white linen
their bodies in white linen
all covered in blood
I ask you again,
raise your glasses to me
a toast.
I, son of man,
shall rid the world of intolerance,
once and for all.
I, King of Judea,
shall bring love for ever after.
The people held up their hands in the new light as the King of Judea stepped from the heavens.
Battlefields rang with bells,
with a sweep of clouds the flowers grew on the mud stricken fields
and the soldiers lay down their arms.
1914, Babylon,1572 and Judea stood hand in hand, rob and rag,
the ever increasing light whirred up and down and broke into the Kingdom of Heaven.
The wars all stood still as the armies of heaven appeared in the sky and the fields bloomed green
and those dead were standing as the people cried:
"the war is over! "
"Son of man has ended the war! "
and until the end of time there were celebrations
as the people agreed never to fight and be intolerant again.
And what was left,
once the guns had gone,
was a field of gold,
and Judea's son.
Out of the cradle, endlessly rocking
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem