The Third: The Earthquake
What’s this! I should not merely tremble but explode,
and pour out my heart’s core in sympathy.
I should convulse and shudder in the tumult
of the wind’s groaning as it vaults up from the caverns.
The storm-sword should pierce my heart and soul.
Mountains hide the tempest of wondrous agony
as deepest cliffs conceal the highest eagle-aerie
while Death steals in to murder life.
The word that gave me life, breath that created me,
my soul and source, is dying. Should I not, terrified,
express my agony and sorrow? This quaking is my outcry:
God loves and suffers; dies in every corner of the earth.
And you, who are also of the earth, quake with fear!
The treachery of your sin has now killed Life.