Heartbreaking poem: "To Jesus on His Birthday" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

[DerekG]

I recalled this poem--the most bitter I've ever read--upon hearing the account of a four-year old Iraqi child who lost her entire family to our bombs.



To Jesus on His Birthday

By Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)


For this your mother sweated in the cold,
For this you bled upon the bitter tree:
A yard of tinsel ribbon bought and sold;
A paper wreath; a day at home for me.
The merry bells ring out, the people kneel;
Up goes the man of God before the crowd;
With voice of honey and with eyes of steel
He drones your humble gospel to the proud.
Nobody listens. Less than the wind that blows
Are all your words to us you died to save.
O Prince of Peace! O Sharon's dewy Rose!
How mute you lie within your vaulted grave.
The stone the angel rolled away with tears
Is back upon your mouth these thousand years.

[ewagner]

1. Thanks for

posting that....

I had forgotten.............

[Rowdyboy]

2. I had forgotten how powerful that piece is

Thanks for posting it...

[hlthe2b]

3. Wow... I'd never read that....

thank you for posting.

[progmom]

4. wow.

:cry:

[C_eh_N_eh_D_eh]

5. Thank you.

[Duncan Grant]

6. Sure to be in my personal "top 10" threads of the day.

Thank you for posting this, DerekG. A perfect choice... :thumbsup: :hi:

[Duncan Grant]

7. a gentle kick back to the first page...

From Keats' Endymion.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

:kick:
edit: emoticon :P

[DerekG]

9. Keats can be a wonderful balm for sorrow

The passage does resonate: Christ's vison "will never pass into nothingness"--the Lord saw a world rife with brutality yet through His words, His actions, His sacrifice, He offered us a way out, a chance to tame our savageness. But when I look at the scorched faces of those Iraqi children, when I see the families here who are doomed to a life of poverty, when I hear the speeches of that monstrous, modern-day Nero of ours, and when I ruminate on my own failings as a Christian and human being, I doubt whether we're ever going to bring God's dream--of ending militarism, economic exploitation and racism-- to fruition. It has become more and more agonizing for me.

But thank you for the Keats excerpt.

[Duncan Grant]

8. and another gentle kick to the front page...

:kick: