Glenda has inspired me again to post something outside my usual perimeters. I've been so sad about what's happening in Lebanon. Too sad to post about it really. And not wanting to take on more issues than I already do.
Then Glenda reminded me that sometimes what one wants to say has already been said. And so it becomes more a matter of just giving the voice a space than anything else. So, I'm posting one of Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnets, published in 1939: "Czecho-Slovakia." It's the way I often feel these days about Iraq and Afghanistan and Lebanon and Gaza and Darfur and the rainforests and the inner cities in the U.S. and...
"If there were balm in Gilead, I would go
To Gilead for your wounds, unhappy land,
Gather you balsam there, and with this hand,
Made deft by pity, cleanse and bind and sew
And drench with healing, that your strength might grow,
(Though love be outlawed, kindness contraband)
And you, O proud and felled, again might stand;
But where to look for balm, I do not know.
The oils and herbs of mercy are so few;
Honour's for sale; allegiance has its price;
The barking of a fox has bought us all;
We save our skins a craven hour or two--
While Peter warms him in the servants' hall
The thorns are platted and the cock crows twice."
I cry for Lebanon and for us all, as we watch and shake our heads and only sigh...