I haven't had the time or energy to find new poems for Holy Week this year as I have in the past. Father Petersen already mentioned that Maundy Thursday is the night of "failure and betrayal." I don't think I could find a poem better than the one I found a couple years ago to capture those emotions, anyway. So here, at least, is one poem for Holy Week, for Maundy Thursday, and the night in which the Bridegroom was betrayed.
Wan Chu's Wife In Bed
BY: RICHARD JONES
Wan Chu, my adoring husband,
has returned from another trip
selling trinkets in the provinces.
He pulls off his lavender shirt
as I lie naked in our bed,
waiting for him. He tells me
I am the only woman he'll ever love.
He may wander from one side of China
to the other, but his heart
will always stay with me.
His face glows in the lamplight
with the sincerity of a boy
when I lower the satin sheet
to let him see my breasts.
Outside, it begins to rain
on the cherry trees
he planted with our son,
and when he enters me with a sigh,
the storm begins in earnest,
shaking our little house.
Afterwards, I stroke his back
until he falls asleep.
I'd love to stay awake all night
listening to the rain,
but I should sleep, too.
Tomorrow Wan Chu will be
a hundred miles away
and I will be awake all night
in the arms of Wang Chen,
the tailor from Ming Pao,
the tiny village down the river.
Here is a similar song covered by Rosanne Cash: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsQFhm908T4 I prefer her version to her father's.
ReplyDelete+ + +
Long Black Veil
Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
Someone was killed 'neath the town hall lights
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
The judge said: Son, what is your alibi?
If you were somewhere else, then you won't have to die
I spoke not a word, though it meant my life
For I'd been in the arms of my best friend's wife
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Now the scaffold is high, and eternity's near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But sometimes at night, when the cold wind moans
In a long black veil, she cries over my bones
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Nobody knows but me
This, btw, is a great album. Country music is far more interesting, lyrically, than rock or pop music.
And on the other side, Maundy Thursday is as much about faithfulness and love.
ReplyDelete