April’s poem

Here is Thriftbooks.com’s list of the most popular books in each state in 2021.

A few good books, a lot of “meh” ones, and some stinkers.

I am a little surprised that so many people are reading about birds, plants, and rocks. (See: Maine, Michigan, Montana, Oregon, Virginia, and Wisconsin.)

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This month’s poetry is from the Purgatorio, canto XI. It modifies the Paternoster. The proud recite it while doing their penance.

They circle around, bearing burdens that make them stoop; and they look at sculptures of the humble.

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Our Father in Heaven, not by Heaven bounded

but there indwelling for the greater love

Thou bears’t Thy first works in the realm first-founded,

hallowed be Thy name, hallowed Thy Power

by every creature as its nature grants it

to praise Thy quickening breath in its brief hour.

Let come to us the sweet peace of Thy reign,

for if it come not we cannot ourselves

attain to it however much we strain.

And as Thine Angels kneeling at the throne

offer their wills to Thee, singing Hosannah,

so teach all men to offer up their own.

Give us this day Thy manna, Lord we pray,

for if he have it not, though man most strive

through these harsh wastes, his speed is his delay.

As we forgive our trespassers the ill

we have endured, do Thou forgive, not weighing

our merits, but the mercy of Thy will.

Our strength is as a reed bent to the ground:

do not Thou test us with the Adversary,

but deliver us from him who sets us round.

This last petition, Lord, with grateful mind,

we pray not for ourselves who have no need,

but for the souls of those we left behind.

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(Translator: John Ciardi)