In the beginning, man is created,
in the image and likeness of spirits,
out of dust of the ground the potter molds,
pumped with breath he quickens to a living soul,
placed in a womb he journeys into the world,
as a baby he cries, "I have arrived",
man is born on the first day and it is good.
As innocent as a dove he crawls,
unthinkably he roams everywhere,
fearlessly he touches everything,
curiously he admires anything,
he plays with the old serpent as his doll,
he loves light and fears only darkness,
man connects with nature on the second day and it is good.
Growing in knowledge and stature,
man receives two in common and the gift of choice,
the fruits of the tree of life; and of knowledge of good and evil,
pleasant to the eyes, desirous to be wise,
filled with quest for supremacy he chats with the devil,
the forbidden fruit is enjoyably eaten on the third day,
man's eyes are opened to be mortal and it is woeful.
Idle soul suffers hunger, plenty bread for the tiller,
the glory of the youth is his strength,
man dresses and keeps all he comes to find,
with an excellence of finest workmanship,
then recompense of his hand is rendered,
a feast for laughter, wine for merry, all by money,
man rejoices in his labor, so the fourth day and it is good.
For it is not good for man to be alone,
hypnotized by a fallen deep sleep,
robbed of a rib painfully pulled out of his flesh,
he loses his mind to call his found rib,
'the bone of my bones and the flesh of my flesh',
he cleaves unto her in naked as one flesh,
he finds a help meet on the fifth day and it is good.
Be fruitful and multiply, man is blessed,
replenish the earth as sand of the shore,
dwelling in intimacy for pleasure he knows right,
a course that breeds conception and bearing of kind,
the beauty of the old is the grey head,
he passes nature and purpose of life through time,
man breeds generations on the sixth day, and it is all good.
Spirit strives not in flesh of dust forever,
man labors to enter into rest,
the spirit is not satisfied with desires,
the body weakens and craves for rest,
he ceases from his own works,
the soul departs from the flesh seeing all is very good,
on the seventh day, man goes into eternal rest.
From the collection: MAN, KNOW THYSELF!
An Ecclesiastical collection of Man's Life on Earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem