Here are three exquisite poems, the first two with the word ‘love’ in the title. The first of these was published in 1633, the second in 1996. They are alike not only in the clarity of their language, but also in the ease with which they can be misinterpreted. In other words, the words are simple, yet their meaning is abstruse. And then a final poem, on the difficulty of saying ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ at the right time.
On a casual reading both poems potentially represent a romantic love between partners. And I cannot gainsay this interpretation. On a different reading both poems represent a spiritual ardour, a faith, in God. I am captivated by the felicity of the transition from one meaning to another.
George Herbert’s life overlapped that of William Shakespeare, and ended in 1633 (17 years after Shakespeare) at the age of 39. He was a very clever lad, from a wealthy family, and by the age of 27 had been elected Public Orator at the University of Cambridge. A career in politics beckoned and he briefly entered Parliament. As time passed however, he moved towards the Church and poetry, and was ordained in 1629, and appointed rector of the parish, Bemerton, in the following year. His entire corpus of poetry in English (he also wrote poetry in Greek and Latin) was published after his death in a volume titled The Temple. The poem here is the final one in that collection of 164 poems. Here is a reading by me.
Love (III) by George Herbert
Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked any thing.
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.
Encountered in an anthology without the context provided here, one can be forgiven thinking Herbert was writing romantically. The conversation between Love and the poet is entrancing, with its invitations and declined objections finally culminating in a delightful surrender. Dust and sin hold him back, unworthiness, unkindness, ingratitude, shamelessness. Yet, Love makes the first approach, is quick-eyed, sweetly questioning, takes his hand, smilingly admits to making eyes, even admits self-blame until resistance is worn down. As the poem progresses, Herbert makes avowal of his (I think) real intent: ‘Truth, Lord,…then I will serve’. Then you must sit and taste my meat. And he does.
The clever wordplay is poetry personified. Symbolic to the point of reality and facade being indistinguishable, the two themes interweave and overlap, like two lovers.
David Whyte is a poet and philosopher living in the Pacific North-West and travelling the world reading his poetry and helping people come to terms with their lives. He has a distinctive and magnetic reading style. Here he is reading his poem, The Truelove.
The Truelove by David Whyte
There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours,
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way.I am thinking of faith now
and the testaments of loneliness
and what we feel we are
worthy of in this world.Years ago in the Hebrides,
I remember an old man
who walked every morning
on the grey stones
to the shore of baying seals,
who would press his hat
to his chest in the blustering
salt wind and say his prayer
to the turbulent Jesus
hidden in the water,and I think of the story
of the storm and everyone
waking and seeing
the distant
yet familiar figure
far across the water
calling to themand how we are all
preparing for that
abrupt waking,
and that calling,
and that moment
we have to say yes,
except it will
not come so grandly
so Biblically
but more subtly
and intimately in the face
of the one you know
you have to loveso that when
we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
everything holds
us, and everything confirms
our courage, and if you wanted
to drown you could,
but you don’t
because finally
after all this struggle
and all these years
you simply don’t want to
any more
you’ve simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.
David’s lilting voice, his phrases repeated for emphasis and for getting carried away, and his paso doble, military two-step back and forth delivery capture the glamour, the certitude of faith (the word is used twice in the first nine lines), when you know you will do anything to take the one hand you know belongs in yours. Is that the hand of Jesus? Or the hand of your beloved person? I am not sure it matters. I know it is wonderful that they are intertwined.
Finally, halfway through his poem, David admits: ‘…we are preparing for that moment, that waking, that calling, when we have to say yes, which may not be very magnificent, but powerful enough that after all these years of drowning, you do not want to drown any more, you want to live and you want to love and you will do anything to hold the one hand that you know belongs in yours.’
Which brings us to the third poem of this article. Che Fece..Il Gran Rifiuto by CP Cavafy.
Che Fece…Il Gran Rifiuto by CP Cavafy
For some people the day comes
when they have to declare the great Yes
or the great No. It’s clear at once who has the Yes
ready within him; and saying it,he goes forward in honour and self-assurance.
He who refuses does not repent. Asked again,
he would still say no. Yet that no — the right no —
undermines him all his life.Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard
When do you say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’? To the big questions in life? It is clear to all that you have it in you, so how and when do you find the courage to answer the way of your heart?
When confronted with conflict, or perhaps simply with opposing views, it can be difficult to find the strength of your inner voice. Agreement is often easily offered – our internal desire to please, to demonstrate respect, to be a team player, can overtake the truth of ‘the great No’ (il gran rifiuto, the great refusal) or ‘the great Yes’ within us. Why is it so easy to fall into step with statements or actions that we may not believe in, while it takes great muscles of courage to counter?
This poem’s title comes from Dante’s condemnation of Pope Celestine V, who resigned the papacy to live a life of hermitage in 1294. This great ‘No’ was declared an act of cowardice by Dante, who placed Celestine in Hell. Cavafy understands the conviction and principle, offering ‘the right no’, yet also realises it may mean a haunting by that decision for ever. Personally, I do not think Celestine deserved to be consigned to Hell; sometimes ‘the great No’ is harder to perform than the opposite. The way of Celestine’s conscience here seems to show great courage.
Still, the right answer to the calling, the grasping at the right time of the hand you know belongs in yours? Beyond hard.