The Journey of the Magi
by Melanie Bettinelli on January 08, 2012
Happy Feast of the Epiphany. I have so much to write about our recent doings and especially our celebration of today’s feast; but am not sure I’ll get it posted tonight. But I wanted to get this up before the day is over. Late though it is, better than missing it altogether.
The Journey of the Magi
by T. S. Eliot
“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The was deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.
All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
You can hear a recording of Eliot reading The Journey of the Magi at the Poetry Archive.
Comments
Thanks for this; it’s lovely. Epiphany is one of my favorite days of the Liturgical Year.
Posted by nancyo on 01/8/12 at 10:16 PM
What a wonderful piece of art.
I love this intimate look at the journey - at the real Magi.
Have you ever read Blessed Anne Catherine Emmerich’s Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary with it’s visions of the journey and all it’s glorious, unimaginable details?
This poem makes me think of it.
Thank you for sharing.
Posted by Teresa on 01/8/12 at 11:29 PM
This poem is just as powerful every time I read it. More so, actually, the older I get, the more immersed I have become in my faith over the years.
Looking forward to your feast day report!
Posted by Karen Edmisten on 01/9/12 at 08:11 AM
Great! I just pulled your blog up…looking forward to reading this poem sometime today…after the fact.:( Oh, well. For now, I need to go sew a ballet tote for one of the kids. I hope to bring this with me on my iPad to read during ballet class. Looking forward to your posts on The Waste Land. Thanks!
Posted by Grace on 01/9/12 at 11:05 AM
Funny, I did exactly the same thing on my blog! Really looking forward to your series on The Wasteland
Posted by Kathleen on 01/12/12 at 06:28 PM