Poem of the week

For Advent.

This poem is translated from Old English and is probably about 1300 years old. It's part of a set of "Advent lyrics," originally written to mirror the liturgy used in medieval churches during Advent. English peasants and townspeople of the 7th and 8th centuries didn't have the Bible in their own language, but they did have these.

A technical note, for those who are interested in such things: As near as I can tell, the translator of these lines tried to echo the alliterative, rhythmic sound of the original. Each line pauses slightly in the middle, marked here by an extra space. The effect is chant-like, and (I think) very cool.


from the Advent Lyrics

O holy Jerusalem,   Vision of peace,
Fairest of royal seats,   City of Christ,
Homeland of angels,   in thee for ever
Rest the souls   of the righteous alone
In glory exulting.   No sign of sin
In that city-dwelling   shall ever be seen,
But from thee all evil   shall flee afar,
All trouble and toil.   Thou art wondrously filled
With holy hope,   as thy name is named.

Lift up thine eyes   on the wide creation,
The dome of heaven,   on every hand;
Behold His coming;   the King of glory
Himself approaches   to seek thee out,
To abide in thee,   as the blessed prophets
In their books foretold   the birth of the Christ,
To thy comfort spoke,   thou fairest of cities!
Now is the Babe come   born to transform
The works of the Hebrews.   He brings thee bliss,
Looses thy bondage,   draws nigh unto men,
For He only knows   their harrowing need,
How man in his wretchedness   waits upon mercy.


From Charles W. Kennedy, Early English Christian Poetry: Translated into Alliterative Verse (New York: Oxford University Press, 1952), pp. 86-87.