"Pilate perhaps was awed,
Or he perhaps, albeit a cruel man,
Was truly for this once compassionate.
However it was, he sought with quickened zeal
To pacify the Jews for the release
Of Jesus; but they knew that governor,
And he knew that they knew him, and when they
Cried out, 'Thou art not Cæsar's friend, if thou
Release this man; whoever makes himself
A king, speaks against Cæsar,' Pilate then
Trembled within his mind for guilty fear.
He covered over his weakness with vain show
Of mock and sarcasm as, with Jesus brought
Forth from within before them, he exclaimed,
'Behold your king!' Tumultuously all
Hooted, 'Away with him! Away with him!
Crucify him!' 'What! Crucify your king?'
Bitterly said Pilate, dashing ruth with sneer.
Those proud chief priests, eating their pride at once
And God abjuring, said: 'We have no king
But Cæsar.' Then he gave Him up to them.
"But Pilate acted out before them all
In symbol a purgation of himself.
He had a basin of water brought, and washed
His hands, and said: 'Lo, I am innocent
Of this just blood; see ye yourselves to it.'
And all my people shouted out a curse
Upon themselves which for their sakes I fain
Had stopped my ears against--if not to hear,
Could have undone that dreadful curse! They cried,
'On us and on our children be his blood!'
God waits yet, but not long, to wreak that curse.
"That was the end of all until the cross.
A multitude of people followed Him,
As He went forth out of the city gate
Bearing His cross to Golgotha, the place
Where He should suffer. Thither going, they
Met Simon a Cyrenean coming in,
And, of some wanton humor seized, they made
Him take the cross and bear it. With the throng
Mingled, were many women who like me
Wailed and lamented. But the Lord to us
Turning said: 'Daughters of Jerusalem,
Weep not for me; but for yourselves weep ye,
Yea, and your children. For the days will come
When, Blessed are the barren, ye shall say,
And breasts that never nourished children. Lo,
Then to the mountains men shall lift their cry,
Fall ye upon us; Cover us, to the hills.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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