Jesus, a short poem
By Gene Shlomovich
To you the nations send their kisses,
But few did contemplate your end.
Exalting mortals to the heavens,
Against Eternal they rebelled.
They croon, “how lovely is our savior!”,
Like us became he, just to die.
Is he not worthy of our worship,
Won’t he be coming from the sky?
But they are in for disappointment,
For you are human, made of clay.
All demigods who came before you,
Like those men, your bed is grave.
But I refuse to bow to heroes,
By miracles I’m not impressed.
Eternal bliss does not entice me,
I’d rather die than you confess.
I am a Jew. I know my Savior,
The G-d of Israel His Name.
My L-rd, Life-Giver and Life-Taker,
Who trusts in You will see no shame.