Nostradamus or The Great King of Terror

Nostradamus wrote:

The year 1999, in the seventh month

From the sky will come the Great King of Terror.

To bring back to life the great King of the Mongols,

Before and after Mars reign by good luck.

This quatrain is thought to be associated with the total eclipse of August 11, 1999. There has been a lot of fuzz about the seventh month in this quatrain. It has something to do with Nostradamus using the Julian calendar instead of the Gregorian. One wonders why he couldn’t foresee this change of calendar only a few decades after his death?

Nostradamus interpreted

But anyway, the eclipse of 1999 darkened the Utah D-Day beach in Normandy, the First World War frontlines of the Somme, the Chemins des Dames and Verdun, the sites of the concentration camps of Dachau and Mauthausen, Braunau am Inn where Hitler was born, Hungary where an uprising against the communist regime was bloodily suppressed in 1956, Timisoara in Romania where the uprising against the Ceausescu regime was started by a televised speech of a reformed reverend, Halabja in Iraqi Kurdistan where poison gas was used against the inhabitants and then on to Iraq and Iran and the war-torn border between Pakistan and India.

As if the eclipse was to summarize with one final sweep all the atrocities of the 20th century.

And what about the King of the Mongols? I thought of the wars raging in the deserts of the east. The beheadings, the stoning of innocent people and yes, crucifixions, too. The terrified local population – highly unlikely they ever heard of Nostradamus – calls the perpetrators ‘children of the  Mongols’. A far echo from the remembrance of the Djengiz Kahn.

Children of God

But still, they are children of God, too. Not in a literal sense of the word, for God doesn’t have children. But they are the fruit of his Creation and born with a free will:  a benign and a bad wolf inside them. What makes them feed the bad wolf so frantically?

Being aware of our own age of anger, aggression and atrocities, we shouldn’t wonder that they stray that far and pray for them to come home.

I stared ahead at the yellowish, rolling hills of Lorraine and thought of the never ending happening of war evermore and sore famine. I was yearning for the day to be, when God will roll his stone away.

…waiting for the day that God will roll his stone away…