On that day, he was so sad

He felt as if he was dying (climb the mount, slaughter Isaac, etc.).

Dejectedly he wandered the streets, hoping for a change

Of plans. Long he wandered: nothing.

So he climbed the mount, slaughtered Isaac, etc.

As he descended, his people danced

Around the golden heifer. And in his hands he carried

Two stone tablets. He threw them at the idol and hell broke loose.

The tablets said: Be fruitful and multiply,

And fill the Earth. Choose your

Faith and form of government freely. Love

Each other, but don’t be too eager to turn the other cheek.

 

This is a story that Rupert once told me.

So where did it all go wrong, I wanted

To ask (the fifth? the first? elsewhere?).

But I didn’t, out of respect I didn’t.

© translated by Jernej Županič

Tisti dan mu je bila duša žalostna

do smrti (iti na goro, zaklati Izaka itd.).

Taval je po ulicah, potrt, upal na spremembo

plana. Dolgo je taval: nič.

Šel je torej na goro, zaklal Izaka itd.

Ko je sestopil, je ljudstvo plesalo

okoli zlatega živinčeta. On pa je v rokah nosil

kamniti tabli. Vrgel ju je v malika, nastal je kažin.

Na tablah je pisalo: Plodite se in množite,

napolnite vse kotičke zemlje. Prosto si

izbirajte vero in državno ureditev. Ljubite

se med seboj, a levega lica ne nastavljajte prepogosto.

 

To zgodbo mi je nekoč pripovedoval Rupert.

Kje se je torej zalomilo, sem ga hotela

vprašati (peta? prva? kje drugje?).

A ga nisem, zaradi rešpekta.

© Stanka Hrastelj