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1860 - 1932
- I'VE been a hopeless sinner, but I
understand a saint,
- Their bend of weary knees and their contortions long and
- And the endless pricks of conscience, like a hundred
- A real perpetual penance for imaginary sins.
- I love to wander widely, but I understand a cell,
- Where you tell and tell your beads because you've nothing
else to tell,
- Where the crimson joy of flesh, with all its wild
- Is forgotten in the blinding glory of the crucifix.
- I cannot speak for others, but my inmost soul is torn
- With a battle of desires making all my life forlorn.
- There are moments when I would untread the paths that I
- I'm a haunter of the devil, but I hunger after God.
2000 Elena and Yacov Feldman