Pietà

after my last post, sarah sent me stephen spender's translation (available upon request) of Rilke's before the passion.  i asked her if she would pass on his translation of the next poem in the life of the virgin mary series.  i should have posted this on thursday, because Holy Saturday is traditionally seen as the day that Jesus laid in the tomb. 

rainer maria rilke's pieta.

Now is my misery complete, and namelessly

it fills me up.  I stare here as the stone's

existence stares.

Hard as I am, I know one thing:

You had grown up -

...... and had grown up

so that, as to much pain

and quite beyond the grasping of my heart,

you should stand out.

Now you lie straight across my lap,

now I can no longer any more

bear you.

until i started writing this, i forgot that i had the humbling experience of standing in St. Peters basilica years ago and (apart from other amazing things) cast eyes upon michelangelo's masterpiece.  

may we use this last day in Lent to reflect on the darkness and hopelessness of a world without God and his grace.