Fortuitous Poem by Mikhail Bulgakov

Wearing a white cloak
With blood-red lining,
Walking with the shuffling gait
Of a veteran cavalry-men,
In the early morning
Of the fourteenth day
Of the spring month of Nissan,
Into the covered colonnade
Between the two wings
Of the palace of Herod the Great,
Came out the Procurator of Judea
Pontius Pilate.