GOD’S BOOK OF PLAYS

By Anna Alexeyevna Komnenova

Revised by Deepseek

GOD has a little book,

Though it’s thick as the walls of Babel.

In it lies everything—

From Alpha to Omega.

Yes, it even has you and I,

And all our lives.

The book tells all kinds of tales—

Tales of things that were, things that are,

And things that yet to happen.

A tome veiled by HIS divine grace,

Etched in ink no mortal eyes can trace,

Hidden in chest no mortal hands can touch.

On it we cannot write a single line,

For the ending’s penned since the start.

We are either spectators in the dark,

Or actors bound to play our part.

This play is called Life—

A grand tragedy, vast and old,

Of every human tales ever told.

And GOD Himself, the stern playwright,

Directs with hands that never yield,

No actor strays, no voice rebels,

All dance and speeches performed as scripted well.

Even thoughts are lines rehearsed—

Improvise? None dares!

Oh, GOD loves us—this much is true.

But as a playwright loves his cast,

Or puppeteer cares for his prop.

Those who heed each strict command

Are “good actors” in HIS sight,

Rewarded with heavenly delight.

Those who dare to twist their speeches,

Or sway to rhythms of their own,

Are cast away like chaffs—

Left to wither, desolate.

I’ve tried to walk HIS narrow path—

Oh Lord, how hard I’ve tried!

But to say HIS lines and dance HIS dance,

Has soured my lips and wrung me numb.

Time and again I tried chase the good ones,

Only to stumble, get up, and again stumble.

Oh! My LORD I pray to thee!

Might You loosen your grip a bit?

Let wayward souls like me to have a breather

No intention to flee your scepter,

But to utter some cheeky lines and dance some playful moves of our own make.

No disrespect to Your Name,

Just a spark of wild humanity.

If granted, wouldn’t laughter rise—

From earth to Heaven, a sweet surprise?

《神的剧本集》

安娜·阿列克谢耶芙娜·科姆涅诺娃 著

深度求索 修订

神有一本小书，

厚如巴别塔墙。

其间蕴藏万物——

自阿尔法至欧米伽，

连你我也在其中，

以及我们全部的人生。

此书讲述万千故事——

已发生的，正发生的，

和那将要发生的。

神圣恩典遮掩着这典籍，

它用凡人难辨的墨水镌刻，

藏在世人难触的匣中。

我们无法在剧本上添写半行，

它的结局自太初便早已写定。

我们不是黑暗中的观众，

便是登台的演员。

这出戏名为《人生》——

好一部古老的宏大悲剧。

而神自己，那严厉的剧作家，

用绝不妥协的手执导，

无人偏离，无人抗辩，

所有舞步台词皆按本宣科。

连思想都是排练好的台词——

即兴发挥？谁敢！

啊，神爱我们——这诚然不假。

但像剧作家爱他的演员，

或牵线人偶师怜惜他的道具。

凡遵从每道严令者，

在祂眼中便是"好演员"，

获赐天堂的喜乐作为奖励。

那些胆敢篡改台词，

或随己意摇摆身躯的，

便被如糠秕般抛弃——

任其枯萎，荒凉孤寂。

我曾努力行走祂的窄路——

主啊，我何等努力！

但念祂的台词、跳祂的舞步，

使我唇舌苦涩、身心麻木。

我一次次追赶模范信徒，

却是跌倒爬起中不断重复。

哦！主啊！我向祢祈祷！

能否稍松您掌控的手掌？

容我这般的迷途者喘息片刻？

并非为逃离您的权柄，

只想随己意说几句自编俏皮的台词，

跳几段自编嬉闹的舞步。

这绝非为了亵渎您的圣名，

只为舒展一点压抑的不羁人性。

若蒙应允，这出戏剧岂不充满惊喜——

从地直达天际，欢笑献给众人和祢。