Isaac

Towards morning the sun stalked within the forest

Together with me and father,

My right hand in his left.

Like lightning a knife flashes between the trees

And I so fear the terror of my eyes opposite the blood.

on the leaves.

Father Father come quick and save Isaac

That no one may be missing at the noon meal.

It is I who am slaughtered, my son,

And already on the leaves my blood is bright

And father's voice was clogged off.

And his face is white.

And I wanted to cry, writhing not to believe if I could

And tearing my eyes.

And I awoke.

And my right hand was devoid of blood.