Our Father which art in Heaven,
that day he knew very well what he was doing,
my Son who loved them so much.
Who lived among them,
who was like one of them.
Who went about like them,
who spoke like them,
who lived like them.
Who suffered like them, who died like them...
He knew very well what he was doing on that day,my Son who loves them so much.
When he put that barrier between them and me,
Our Father which art in Heaven, those three or four words.
That barrier which my anger and perhaps my justice will never pass...
Those three or four words
which advance like a strong prow in front of a weak ship,
And which cleave the wave of my anger.
And when the prow has passed,
the ship passes and all the fleet behind it...
Our Father which art in Heaven.
My Son knew just how to set about it,
To bind the arms of my justice and to loose the arms of my mercy.
And nowadays I must judge them like a father...
That is what my Son told them.
My Son yielded up to them the secret of Judgement itself...
In the same way that the wake of a great ship goes on widening till it disappears and is lost,
But begins with a point which is the point of the ship itself,
So the immense wake of sinners widens till it disappears and is lost.
But begins with a point and it is the point which comes towards me, which is turned towards me.
It begins with a point which is the point of the ship itself.
And the ship is my own Son,
loaded with all the sins of the world.
And the point of the ship is the point of my Son’s hands joined in supplication...
And that point is the three or four words;
Our Father which art in Heaven
And behind that point advances the point itself, that is to say the prayer in its entirety,
As it was uttered on that first occasion
And behind it widens and disappears
The wake of innumerable prayers
As they are uttered textually on innumerable days
By innumerable men,
(By simple men, his brothers),
So many other times on innumerable days;
As they were uttered innumerable times
During innumerable days.
All that immense fleet of prayers loaded with the sins of the world.
All that immense fleet of prayers and penitence attack me
Having the prow that you know of,
Advance towards me, having the prow that you know of.
It is a fleet of cargoes,
And it is a fleet of the line
A battle fleet,
Like a beautiful classical fleet, like a fleet of triremes
Advancing to attack the King.
As for me, what do you expect me to do; I am attacked.
And in that fleet, in that innumerable fleet
Each Pater is like a high-decked ship
Which has its own prow, Our Father which art in Heaven,
Turned towards me, and which advances behind its own prow...