Psalm of Despair

               by Radmila Lazic

I dwell in a land of despair

In the city of despair

Among desperate people

Myself desperate

I embrace my desperate lover

With desperate hands

Whispering desperate words

Kissing him with desperate lips.

In despair we make children

In despair we strangle them

And feed our desperate offspring
With our own despair

So that they may multiply

By giving birth to ever more desperate children

And so on.

For the God of Despair is our Lord

And his envoys of despair

With their instruments of despair

That coat our homes with despair

Drape our windows with despair

And board up our doors with it

As despair rises around us like walls.

Preaching the religion of despair

For gain and wealth

Instructing us in Holy Despair

For which we are to earn life eternal

So our dead will rise again

In despair.

The wandering lamb

That found no path or shelter

No dawn and no morning

Forever and ever --

Damn you wicked hand

That wrote this in the year 2013 of our Lord.

Trans. from Serbian by Charles Simic. NYRB 12/13/2013.