In the June issue I mentioned that David Chapman, our Editor, had been reading Dylan Thomas’s poem “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”. Pam Wilkinson has written in to say, “I’m a big fan of DT but I have problems with that poem!” I do too: in the poem, Dylan Thomas seems to be stuck in his anger (“rage, rage against the dying of the light”) It is important to acknowledge anger but it doesn’t remain valuable for long.
I am grateful to Pam for pointing me to Bach’s Cantata 82, which I had not heard before. It contains the Gospel of Luke’s Song of Simeon (also known as Nunc Dimittis):
Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.
Pam also pointed me to Beim Schlafengehen by Herman Hesse, which Richard Strauss set to music as one of his ‘Four Last Songs’. Pam “armed with my 60 year old German O level and temerity”, has written her own translation of Hesse’s poem:
I am tired of this day And long, like a weary child To welcome the starry night Hands, leave your tasks Mind, forget your thoughts My senses seek to lose themselves in sleep My unguarded soul yearns to float in free flight To dwell forever deep in the enchanted circle of the night
Simeon and the speaker of Hesse’s poem are facing death in old age with equanimity and in relatively peaceful and hopeful circumstances. There are people facing death amidst despair in too many places in the world. It is understandable that those people should be responding with anger. Caroline Pickard has pointed me to the young Palestinian poet, Haia Mohammed, whose collection, The Age of Olive Trees is published by Outspoken Press. Caroline has picked out these lines:
I’m the blood that flows through the streets the pulse beneath the rubble that never ceases every day my eyes witness death but my heart knows only life I carry on my shoulders the pain of a nation and on my lips the voice of defiance
The poems are statements of political and spiritual resistance. When one is actually under the attack there is no time and space for the enemy’s perspective.
Even though we may only see and hear the horror on screens, we should be angry. Safe as we are from the immediate violence of the situation it is important that we seek to turn that anger into words and deeds that serve peace. If we show no concern for the pain and fears of one side, then that side may perceive that violence is their only hope for security. I was comforted by the interview with Kurshida Mirza (Sofia, June), who said, “Religion should play a constructive, unifying role [in society] – not a divisive or oppressive one. […] Islam teaches that differences, (race, gender, nationality) are deliberate tests from God – not reasons to hate, but opportunities to learn peaceful coexistence”. She spoke of the struggle to stay “kind and grounded when facing prejudice” and the importance of being “open to questions”. Kindness, holding firm to the beliefs that ground us and open-mindedness have been essential values of Christianity, Islam and Judaism – when we are compelled to respond to moments of great horror, it becomes most difficult and most important to stand up for those values.
I have been reading Selected Poems of the Caribbean poet Una Marson (published by Peepal Tree Press). Una Marson was born in Jamaica but worked for the BBC during the Second World War – she was the first black woman to be employed there. Here is a selection of lines from her poem,
There Will Come a Time.
Each race that breathes the air of God’s fair world […] forgets to look outside itself […] Forgetful yet that […] in the heart Of every human being excepting none, There lies the selfsame love, the selfsame fear, The selfsame craving for the best that is. […] ‘Tis mine to share in this gigantic task Of oneness for the world’s humanity.
Remember to keep sending me your comments, recommendations and, indeed, your own poems: poetry@sofn.uk