This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

“Commanded by your mother/ I went forth
To where the Jordan flows. Judea’s women
Blinded me with their beauty. Each one seemed
More beautiful to me. I heard of one,
A sinner she was called, and this was said of her;
That she had met a strangely gifted man
Who made of her a saint with but a glance.
I was so curious/ that I set out
At once to reach the seat of Judea
Where she dwelt alone. And the nearer I approached
The more I heard about this gifted man
Whom men called Holy. Wearily/ at length I came
To far Jerusalem. My mind over filled
With thoughts of this strange man, and I forgot
To seek the sinner of whose varied charms
They spoke throughout that distant, foreign land.

My King, ’twas there that I saw Jesus Christ.
His look contained more in one passing glance
Than could be stated in the words of man.
I knelt before him and I humbly begged
Of him the right to paint his countenance,
Hoping that I could bring to you. My Lord,
His shining features to Armenia.
Christ smiled and nodded in a dreamy way
And I began to work. But all in vain.
My hands just trembled and into my eyes
Rose unchecked tears; My heart began to beat
With so much sadness and unbridled joy,
That I was blinded and could no longer work.
Thrice I attempted to record those lines
With brush on canvas and thrice ill luck
Filled my soul with despair, and wretchedly
I hid my tear-stained face. Then Christ, who saw
My struggling grief, came near and said to me
Softly; “Man, cease your sorrowing lament,
For I will help you.” From his mother’s hand
He took a white cloth and gently buried there
His holy countenance in the soft wool web.
That very moment. Mighty miracle!
His features shone upon the snow-white cloth
As brightly as a star that gleams above.
And his holy picture, look, rests in my hands.”

80