Suffering in Translation
Ah, Spring . . . showers and flowers
birds and bees, motorcycles and
mercury rising and everything
flowing, flowing – sap and streams
and hormones and young men’s
fancies turning toward love and
some turning toward fancy young men
and Christ dieing on the cross
so we could be dying eggs of
fertility on the first Sunday
after the first full moon of spring
sing it with me – SPRING –
you know the tune – and rising again
to remind us to feel guilty forever
but he really was a nice
young man, fancy, I suppose
what with the halo and all but
when he said “suffer the little children”
I don’t think he meant it like that
I think it was more like allow
the little children ‘cause I got
some stories I wanna tell
- but you know how it goes when
you’re translating from Aramaic
into King James’ English – allow
the little children to hear the stories
and then stand back and allow
them their fancies and I really
don’t think he meant they should
suffer if some of their fancies
are different than yours or they’re
marching to the beat of other birds
and bees than you’re hearing ‘cause
if I’m wrong why would his
wise old Dad have created Spring?
- Ralph Murre
1 comment:
Ahh, Ralph, the lightness in the beat here is enough to render and keep me in awe. ^_^ What more when I am led to reflect on the underlying wisdom that cannot be refused an acknowledgement? *grin*
Yes, why would He have created Spring if it were otherwise? You have laid out a sound proposition with admirable eloquence. I'm glad I dropped by; I have terribly missed much of your writing, but do expect me to visit more often.
Till then. Be well. ^_^
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