Ecce Puer
by James Joyce
Of the dark past
A child is born;
With joy and grief
My heart is torn.
Calm in his cradle
The living lies.
May love and mercy
Unclose his eyes!
Young life is breathed
On the glass;
The world that was not
Comes to pass.
A child is sleeping:
An old man gone.
O, father forsaken,
Forgive your son!
1 comment:
Behold the Boy!
When I translated this, I thought it would be fit using "little craddle" and "little eyes", this makes is sound so much more innocent and infant, but I see that there is a powerful message behind this. Thanks.
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