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Thread: Bohemian Advent

  1. #1
    tWebber
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    Bohemian Advent

    This is the series of poems I mentioned in another thread. A year or so ago, I was told by one of the elders in my church that there's a Czech folk tradition that calls the various Advent Sundays after various metals, Iron Sunday, Bronze Sunday, Silver Sunday, and Gold Sunday, but nobody knows why. (I assume there's some sort of ancient church tradition that has been forgotten). Biblical meanings of these metals and their connections to Advent immediately came to mind, and so in the best tradition of "taking captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ,” I wrote a series of poems to reclaim them in the hopes of creating a new Czech Church Advent tradition. It was too late to have them translated in time for last advent, but my brother-in-law has stepped up to the plate and taken on the task for this year, and our combined efforts have been very well received by my our congregation so far. Since Silver Sunday is almost upon us, I will post the first three in this OP, then add the others on their given days. Last year Czech Christmas Day (the 24th) also fell on a Sunday, giving the series extra resonance.

    Iron Sunday

    Nations crushed by iron wheels,
    With gladii and oblong shields,
    As far as human eyes can see
    Reigns Caesar unopposed, supreme.

    He sees himself as a great god
    To rule all with an iron rod.
    “My empire has been built to last
    My might will never be surpassed.”

    But soon That Day will come.


    Bronze Sunday


    Bronze shields and spears arranged in ranks,
    To form the fearsome Greek phalanx,
    Conquered nations far and wide;
    Now there’s a new source of Greek pride:

    Bold theories and insightful thoughts
    That they debate in marble courts.
    “Whose wisdom can outshine our own
    Or that of our great pantheon?”

    Twixt oracles and temples grand,
    In Athens a small altar stands,
    Placed there as a reverent nod
    To an as yet unknown god.

    But soon That Day will come.


    Silver Sunday

    Bags of silver coins change hands
    For human lives from distant lands:
    Some caught in war, some caught at crime,
    Some could not pay their debts in time.

    With chains on their bruised feet and hands,
    Worth thirty silver to a man;
    Some foolishly still dare to dream
    That they could one day be redeemed.

    But soon That Day will come.
    --------------------------------------------------------

    Nakonec pravda vitezi (In the end the truth wins)

    Nobility Among Us and Beyond the Mist are now on sale worldwide, as is my first poetry collection, Selected Verse - Faith and Family and my second, Selected Verse - Heroes and Wonders

    Proofreader, editor and promotional video maker for Superversive Press, where hope is the new genre.

    Listen to a Tale of the Once and Future King

  2. Amen mossrose amen'd this post.
  3. #2
    tWebber
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    Sorry, forgot to update this:

    Gold Sunday

    From mighty Babylon of old
    Through furnaces and statues gold
    Endured a voice that prophesied
    Great future empires’ fall and rise

    And then a rock to dwarf them all
    Arising from a land so small,
    Its people cling to trembling hope
    In more than just a horoscope.

    The age is nigh, the world expects
    A noble, mighty architect
    Of change unique in history,
    An end to Israel’s misery,

    And soon That Day will come.

    Priceless Sunday

    Beyond all hopes, beyond all dreams,
    Beyond all human plots and schemes
    To cure the ills that plague mankind,
    The bonds that hold the weak unbind,

    The wisdom of the world surpass,
    To show the lost the way at last.
    To shame the mighty and the strong
    And show the proud where they went wrong.

    To open up the narrow door
    That leads to love for evermore;
    All this through a baby’s birth
    To reclaim corrupted Earth.

    The fullness of divinity
    Combined with full humanity
    To be the Way, the price to pay
    With unforeseen humility.

    No eye had seen, no ear had heard
    The mighty and incarnate Word
    That cried our tears, that felt our pain,
    So we could all be whole again.

    The greatest enemy of all
    Saw this would lead to his great fall;
    He tried to tempt, to spoil, destroy,
    But could not taint our source of joy.

    At last That Day had come.
    --------------------------------------------------------

    Nakonec pravda vitezi (In the end the truth wins)

    Nobility Among Us and Beyond the Mist are now on sale worldwide, as is my first poetry collection, Selected Verse - Faith and Family and my second, Selected Verse - Heroes and Wonders

    Proofreader, editor and promotional video maker for Superversive Press, where hope is the new genre.

    Listen to a Tale of the Once and Future King

  4. Amen Cerebrum123 amen'd this post.
  5. #3
    Professor Cerebrum123's Avatar
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    This is pretty interesting.

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