By the Picture of El Greco

1


On El Greco’s picture shades stretch self to heavens;
Though long, the shadows cannot touch the Grace.
“Where can we find out steps of sacred ladders?
How can the mortals build the airy ways?”
A depressing artist, a seraph rebellious,
You craved for the heavens and you went them in, –  
But you lost the battle to Lord, fell from heavens  
And was mad – a penance for your awful sin.

2

Yes, but was your madness just the sacred madness,
And the world, wide-opened, was your prison grim,
You disliked all earthy, all untrue and helpless,
And turned out your vision at your highest dream.
Yes, and all your friars are not shades half-bended,
They are not black crowds of the slaves in bonds,
And their gloomy faces, so strangely stretched,
Greedily stretch self out to resolve the worlds.  


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, September, 2003