# Poet Lore/Volume 28/Number 4/On Golgotha

Originally published in Czech in 1901.
Layout 2
ON GOLGOTHA
By J. S. Machar
Translated from the Bohemian by Otto Katouc
It was the third hour when the cross was raised Betwixt the crosses. Red from exertion The soldiers sat upon the much trampled And bloody ground. They parted His raiment. And for the coat which was without seam they Cast lots. And many of the multitude Passed gazing up at Him and wagged their heads
And said, Ah, come down from the cross! For Thou Didst style Thyself king! Thou, that wouldst destroy The temple and then build it in three days, Well, save Thyself! Stood by also chief priests And scribes with long and flowing beards, and said Amongst themselves: True ,true, He saved others; Let Him then save Himself now—There also Were many women looking on afar, Who ministered to Him in Galilee, Salome, Mary, and Magdalene, and who Came up with Him unto Jerusalem.
Crucified, naked, shorn, He was numbered With transgressors. And crusted blood clung to His scourged body, while ruddy streams oozed from His hands and feet and dripped upon the ground. His dying eyes gazed out into distance, Across the white city, hills and woodlands And ridges of the peaceful peaks in whose Lap lie the blue waters of Galilee.
He bowed His head. A winged rustling reached His ear. ’Twas not the Father’s angel with Refreshment’s chalice for a weary soul— An unclean spirits with it batlike wings Outstretched upon the air flew unto Him. He had to suffer Satan to sit on His cross, lean toward His head. For faint within Him was His spirit and weak to resist.
And Satan then said: Woeful Sufferer, Upon Thy cross of wood we meet again! Today the last time. ’Tis settled today. The battle has been fought. Rememberst Thou Three years hence, when I carried Thee yon in The wilderness upon a high mountain And shewed Thee mighty kingdoms, promised Thee All of the glory of this world, shouldst Thou Fall down and worship me? Thou didst refuse.
Thou wouldst proclaim the coming kingdom of Heaven to the weak, wretched. Thou wouldst bestow Imperishable gifts upon clean hearts. Thou wouldst show humble souls the way into Thy Father’s dwelling and erase the curse Of Adam from each generation’s brow!
Thou didst go to Thy death quiet, resigned, Just as the lamb that openest not its mouth. Thou pourest out Thy blood even like the dew. To moisten Thy young and early sprouting seed.
Jesus of Nazareth, behold the throngs That surge continually about Thy cross! Not long ago, when Thou didst enter in The city in triumph, they strewed palms neath Thy colt, cried praises unto Thee, and then Proclaimed Thee David’s son. For they thought ’mongst Themselves the kingdom of God was at hand, The cherished time of milk and honey was Now come. And then Thou didst refuse again. The disappointed throngs next in anger Cried, “Crucify Him!” into Pilate’s ears. And now they come and wag their heads and say: Here the king of the Jews is crucified. Let Him save Himself. He would be the Son Of God. But God seems to forsake Him now. And God forsook Behold that heaven where Thou Didst deem He reigns in all of His glory! Cloudless, serene, it smiles quietly on With its insensible blue smile. As ’twas Before, so ’twill be after Thee. So too The fowls flying the air and every beast Inhabiting the earth has lived and lives According to one law, that is my law. The strong forever shall absorb the weak. ’Tis so with man. And this whole wide, wide world Is my kingdom. Because I am the Life. I rule. I sit enthroned in hearts, in souls. No one shall ever banish me, nor Thou, Nor Thy Father, Thy kingdom of God is A dream. That dream I leave to man fore’er!
Behold, how calmly Rome’s centurion Speaks with the scribe in white beneath Thy cross! ’Twill ever be thus. They are now heirs of Thy words, Thy dreams. One shall change his idols, The other this Jehovah for Thy name, And on the world shall live as I ordain.
Why didst Thou not then take all those kingdoms And this world’s glory from my gen'rous hand? Thy youthful life would not have thus been spent In shameful torture. Happily couldst Thou Have lived and brought millions Thy happiness. But what bring’st Thou? Death and discord Thou spreadst. Thou fallest first. And for Thy name, Thy dreams, Hundreds upon hundreds shall spill their blood On crosses and arenas and scaffolds. And when ’twill seem Thy dream has been fulfilled, Then in Thy name, and only in Thy name, The carnage shall go on. So far as eye Can see, there, rows of flaming pyres extend Where sacrifices are burned in Thy name; And in Thy name numberless wars shall rage, And in Thy name cities and towns shall burn, And in Thy name countries shall be laid waste, And in Thy name curses shall be uttered, And in Thy name there shall be slavery Of body and of spirit.
For behold The centurion and the scribe! The one Shall murder in Thy name, the other bless Him in Thy name. Wretched millions shall pay For Thy dream with their most precious estate, Their lives, And o’er the blood that is thus spilled, Thy dream of God's eternal kingdom and Heaven’s glory shall rise up like a phantom That shall reward the dead. A lure to them In life throughout and on till ends the world! Why then didst Thou not take all these kingdoms And glory of this world ? For life is mine. I am the Life, the lord of all below, And forever I sit in hearts, in souls—
And then forthwith Satan arose and spread His great, dark, batlike wings, that extended With swiftness of the wind in distance vast And ghastly great. O’er Golgotha entire, O’er city and valley and o’er the hills, O’er regions round about, o’er distant peaks, O’er waters blue of lakes of Galilee. O’er realms beyond afar and seas remote There was projected then a dark, black veil.
And there was darkness over all the land, Which trembled then. And in the end Jesus About Him gazed and with a loud voice cried: “Elȯi, Elȯi, lama zabachtani,” And yielded up the ghost.
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