Original PDF File
Your anvil is the earth, and with your right arm
You span the arc of heavan like the sun.
Eight decades on this scaffolding 'a lifetime'
I sought a sign of you, but there was none.
Under my chisel marable fell to stonedust,
But only torsos, idols would be born.
I found you no, elusive, radiant, sunburnt,
Who glowed there pulsing under every stone.
I have myself become an ancient stone block,
Split by vines, a still, curmudgeonly old rock,
But in my soul the old flame yet burns on.
How can I shed this flesh that holds me prisoner?
Strike me, if you can love a hoary sinner,
Divine Sculptor, My God. I am the stone.
Translated by Andrea Jarmal
Toronto Legacy Plaque Project 2006
Michelangelo's Last Prayer by George Faludy Commemorative Plaque, 2006