Our poem for this week is by the Polish poet, Czesław Miłosz (1911–2004), who directly experienced many of the violent upheavals of his time.

Before Majesty

It is bitter to praise God in misfortune,
thinking that He did not act, though He could

The angel of Jehovah did not touch the eyelids
of a man whose hand I hold,
I, a passive witness of this suffering for no cause.

Unanswered is our prayer, both his and mine.
Unanswered is my request: strike me
and in exchange give him an ordinary life.

A weak human mercy walks in the corridors of hospitals
and is like a half-thawed winter.

While I, who am I, a believer, dancing before the All-Holy?

For more on the life and work of Czesław Miłosz, click here.

Poems for These Times

‘Poems for These Times’ is a special collection of poetry offered in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. It is intended as a way of sustaining us, and to give us something on which to meditate together during these difficult and challenging times.

There will be just one poem each week, so that we can really stay with what is offered. We can read it – perhaps aloud – to ourselves or to any companions in our isolation, and sense the vibrations through our whole being. For poetry has the power to affect us on every level – body, mind, heart and soul. It has a magic, which, in the words of poet Adrienne Rich:

“… goes back very far: the rune; the chant; the incantation; the spell; the kenning; sacred words; the naming of the child; the plant, the insect, the ocean, the configuration of stars, the snow, the sensation in the body… The physical reality of the human voice.”

Of course, not every poem will appeal to everyone – that is inevitable. But there is also the possibility that staying with something that does not immediately appeal can be stimulating and helpful. Experience suggests that sustained attention and contemplation of a poem’s music, words and thoughts can be deeply rewarding.

It would be lovely to share any responses and thoughts you may have through our comments section below.

Barbara Vellacott