Noel
by Anne Porter
When snow is shaken
From the balsalm trees
And they’re cut down
And brought into our houses
When clustered sparks
Of many-colored fire
Appear at night
In ordinary windows
We hear and sing
The customary carols
They bring us ragged miracles
And hay and candles
And flowering weeds of poetry
That are loved all the more
Because they are so common
But there are carols
That carry phrases
Of the haunting music
Of the other world
A music wild and dangerous
As a prophet’s message
Or the fresh truth of children
Who though they come to us
From our own bodies
Are altogether new
With their small limbs
And birdlike voices
They look at us
With their clear eyes
And ask the piercing questions
God alone can answer.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
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5 comments:
their all so beautifull!
Santa!
Noel, I mean, is the name we use in Portuguese, we use something that would translate like "Daddy Noel", just os you know "Papai Noel".
=]
My Mom is loving all the poems, I am having them all translated into Portuguese and sent to her and to my fan club community =]
How was the first concert dude? Hope it was nice!!!
That's great, Juca! I wonder how poems translate? That would be interesting.
The first show was good, a few bumps to work out, as always, but it's a wonderful night of incredible artists.
Wondering if it defeats the purpose of expectation and anticipation if I read all of these at once...
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