Easter Lamb

Appendix to Picasso paintings

Sándor Kányádi

I was the first to sight it.

It had three legs and two heads.
Even the oldest among us had not
heard of or seen anything like it.
All the neighbors flocked to see it from the street, the village;
the wonder drew crowds from the whole area.
We watched with horror as the mother
licked the monster.

It was Easter Sunday during the war.

"The hand of God!" sobbed an old woman,
and all the women joined in. The men were
staring somberly in front of them. Consulted one
another, chased home the little ones.

"Sin itself, of the sinful world!" cried out again
the old woman, echoed by the rest.
The men were standing around, undecided.

"It's not going to live long, can't even stand up."
"We should put it out of its misery."
But there were no volunteers.

"All that innocent blood, all that innocent blood. God
revealed himself. His only son. On the Holy Day of the Lamb."
"What are you bawling about?" someone grunted at the women.

The mother just kept tenderly licking her
monster. With a mother's post-partum
tired-happy look, she raised her fuzzy eyes
at the bystanders, then there was a shudder,
and she dropped the placenta
as she was supposed to.

"It's a wonder, I'm telling you, a wonder."
"Belongs in a museum, for sure."
"Kid, you could cash in on this." This was followed
by someone with something that temporarily
silenced the women, too.

"Wants to stand up."
"This calls for a vet."
"The vet's on the front, too."

Never stood up. Died not long after.
We all went home, relieved.

It kept coming up in conversation all summer. Someone
even wanted to exhume it. Then
it was forgotten. It slowly took its place officially among
the other freaks of nature, but most of us
knew better. It was only later that I learned
around that time quite a few six-legged stallions and bulls
were born; four-eyed, two-headed women were sobbing
all over Europe; and in Japan the horrifying memory of
the Easter lamb is still very much alive in spite of the fact
that not all of the people there are Christian.


translated from the Hungarian by Paul Sohar