Poetry, April 5

Woo! Happy Holy Week, everyone! In honor of today's...feast? I don't think it's a feast. It might just be a speshul day, I went hunting for a poem about Palm Sunday, and lo and behold, I came across Goethe. And I like it, for the universality of the day (wherever you are, you do the best with what's available, and in the end it's the prayer that matters). After a bit of research, I found the poem in its original German, and so I'm going to post that, and then, since it's short, post a translation, the standard one that everyone seems to use, though whether or not it's actually a good one, I'll leave up to the people who actually speak German on my f-list (I notice they kept the rhyme scheme, at least). So, today, from Goethe:



Symbole
Im Vatikan bedient man sich
Palmsonntags ächter Palmen;
Die Cardinäle beugen sich
Und singen alte Psalmen.
Dieselben Psalmen singt man auch
Oelzweiglein in den Händen,
Muß im Gebirg zu diesem Brauch
Stechpalmen gar verwenden;
Zuletzt, man will ein grünes Reis,
So nimmt man Weidenzweige,
Damit der Fromme Lob und Preis
Auch im Geringsten zeige.
Und habt ihr euch das wohl gemerkt,
Gönnt man euch das Bequeme,
Wenn ihr im Glauben euch bestärkt;
Das sind Mythologeme.


Symbols
Palm Sunday at the Vatican
They celebrate with palms;
With reverence bows each holy man,
And chaunts the ancient psalms.
Those very psalms are also sung
With olive boughs in hand,
While holly, mountain wilds among,
In place of palms must stand:
In fine, one seeks some twig that's green,
And takes a willow rod,
So that the pious man may e'en
In small things praise his God.
And if ye have observed it well,
To gain what's fit ye're able,
If ye in faith can but excel;
Such are the myths of fable.