Simone Weil by Edward Hirsch

"Away from Dogma": In her "Spiritual Autobiography," a letter addressed to her friend Father Perrin, Weil writes: "Keeping away from dogma in this way, I was prevented by a sort of shame from going into churches, though I like being in them." She goes on to describe her three crucial contacts with Catholicism (Waiting for God). 

Edward Hirsch:

Earthly Measures

Notes

Away from Dogma 

I was prevented by a sort of shame from going into

churches ... Nevertheless, I had three contacts with

Catholicism that really counted. Simone Weil 

I. In Portugal 

One night in Portugal, alone in a forlorn

village at twilight, escaping her parents,

she saw a full moon baptized on the water

and the infallible heavens stained with clouds.

Vespers at eventide. A ragged procession

of fishermen's wives moving down to the sea,

carrying candles onto the boats, and singing

hymns of heartrending sadness. She thought:

this world is a smudged blue village

at sundown, the happenstance of stumbling

into the sixth canonical hour, discovering

the tawny sails of evening, the afflicted

religion of slaves. She thought: I am

one of those slaves, but I will not kneel

before Him, at least not now, not with

these tormented limbs that torment me still.

God is not manifest in this dusky light

and humiliated flesh: He is not among us.

But still the faith of the fishermen's wives

lifted her toward them, and she thought:

this life is a grave, mysterious moment

of hearing voices by the water and seeing

olive trees stretching out in the dirt,

of accepting the heavens cracked with rain.

2. In Assisi

To stand on the parcel of land where the saint

knelt down and married Lady Poverty, to walk

through the grasses of the Umbrian hills

where he scolded wolves and preached

to doves and jackdaws, where he chanted

canticles to the creatures who share our earth,

praising Brother Sun who rules the day,

Sister Moon who brightens the night.

Brother Fire sleeps in the arms of Sister Water.

Brother Wind kisses Sister Earth so tenderly.

To carry a picnic and eat whatever he ate-

bread and wine, the fare of tourists and saints.

She disliked the Miracles in the Gospels.

She never believed in the mystery of contact,

here below, between a human being and God.

She despised popular tales of apparitions.

But that afternoon in Assisi she wandered

through the abominable Santa Maria degli Angeli

and happened upon a little marvel of Romanesque

purity where St. Francis liked to pray.

She was there a short time when something absolute

and omnivorous, something she neither believed

nor disbelieved, something she understood-

but what was it?-forced her to her knees.

3. At Solesmes 

From Palm Sunday to Easter Tuesday,

from Matins to Vespers and beyond, from

each earthly sound that hammered her skull

and entered her bloodstream, from the headaches

she sent into the universe and took back

into her flesh, from the suffering body

to the suffering mind, from the unholy breath

to the memories that never forgot her-

the factory whistle and the branding-iron

of the masters, the sixty-hour work week

and the machine that belched into her face,

the burns that blossomed on her arms-

from whatever weighs us down to whatever

lifts us up, from whatever mutilates us

to whatever spirits us away, from soul

descending to soul arising, moment by moment

she felt the body heaped up and abandoned

in the corner, the skin tasted and devoured;

she felt an invisible hand wavering

over the rags she was leaving behind.

Between the voices chanting and her own recitation,

between the heartbeats transfigured to prayer,

between the word forsaken and the word joy,

God came down and possessed her. 

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Thơ Mỗi Ngày

Away from Dogma

I was prevented by a sort of shame from going into churches ...
Nevertheless, I had three contacts with Catholicism that really counted.
-SIMONE WElL

1. In Portugal

One night in Portugal, alone in a forlorn
village at twilight, escaping her parents,
she saw a full moon baptized on the water
and the infallible heavens stained with clouds.

Vespers at eventide. A ragged procession
of fishermen's wives moving down to the sea,
carrying candles onto the boats, and singing
hymns of heartrending sadness. She thought:

this world is a smudged blue village
at sundown, the happenstance of stumbling
into the sixth canonical hour, discovering
the tawny sails of evening, the afflicted

religion of slaves. She thought: I am
one of those slaves, but I will not kneel
before Him, at least not now, not with
these tormented limbs that torment me still.

God is not manifest in this dusky light
and humiliated flesh: He is not among us.
But still the faith of the fishermen's wives
lifted her toward them, and she thought:

this life is a grave, mysterious moment
of hearing voices by the water and seeing
olive trees stretching out in the dirt,
of accepting the heavens cracked with rain.

Edward Hirsch: The Living Fire

Note: Bài đầu, trong ba bài, đã có bản tiếng Mít

Tránh xa Tín điều

Tôi bị ngăn trở một cách tủi hổ không được vô nhà thờ…
Tuy nhiên, tôi có được ba lần tiếp xúc với Ca Tô Giáo, và điều này thực sự đáng tính đếm tới

Simone Weil

1. Ở Portugal

Một đêm ở Portugal, một mình tại một ngôi làng khốn khổ buồn bã vào lúc chập tối, chạy trốn cha mẹ
Bà nhìn thấy một vừng trăng đầy được nước rửa tội
Và những khoảng trời không thể sa xuống,
Điểm lấm tấm bởi những đám mây

Sao hôm ở với chiều hôm
Một chuyển động tả tơi
Là những bà vợ ngư phủ kéo nhau xuống bãi biển
Mang những cây đèn cầy, trong những chiếc thuyền
Và hát những bài thánh ca thật là não lòng. Bà nghĩ:

Thế giới này là một ngôi làng xanh mờ mờ
Vào lúc mặt trời lặn
Sự chấp nhận xẩy chân vào cái giờ kinh điển thứ sáu
Khám phá ra những cánh buồm hung hung vào lúc buổi chiều
Cái tôn giáo đau đớn của những kẻ nô lệ.

Bà nghĩ:

Tôi là một trong những nô lệ
Nhưng tôi không quỳ gối trước Người
Ít ra vào lúc này
Không, với những chân tay bị hành hạ này, vẫn còn hành hạ tôi
Chúa không hiển hiện trong thứ ánh sáng lầm than như thế này
Trong cái thân thể, thịt xương bị sỉ nhục như thế này

Tuy nhiên niềm tin của những bà vợ ngư phủ vẫn nhấc bổng Bà lên và,
Bà nghĩ:

Cõi đời này là một nấm mồ
Khoảnh khắc bí ẩn, nghe những giọng nói bên bờ nước
Nhìn những cành ô liu vươn khỏi bùn bụi
Và chấp nhận những khoảng trời vỡ vụn ra với mưa.