ONE OF THE SERVANTS OF JOB

I was one of the servants of Job,

a man once blessed with all the good things

under the Sun. A man

favoured by God, enveloped in his grace.

Working on his orchards and fields,

sleeping under his roof

I felt a small amount of his good fortune

to be mine, that good God had blessed

a wretch like me

and given me as good a place

to be as one of my lowly rank can have.

I, who are laying here, taken from the fields

of Job by the Sabaeans

and run trough by a sword

which now glimmers in the blazing sun

red with my blood. How

I thirst for a gulp of water

like I thirst for justice for my fate,

but I have none, and all the blessing

I thought I had from the Lord

is but spilled blood of mine on the rocks

beside me. I was one of the servants

of Job, a man much envied

for God's favour embraced him. I was

and now I will be no more waiting

morsels of mercy from the divine

as the world is receding in sound and sight

like the God's grace receded from Job

like the low tide takes the sea

from the shores of men.

22.03.2018