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Friends United
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December 2011
Under the Tree*
By Jorge Luis Peña Reyes
Translation by Susan Furry with Benigno Sánchez-Eppler
And Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
The Lamb is now watching
the radiance looming.
Nearby stand the oxen,
stars jumble each other.
The arms of the sky
are broken by shadows,
the rainbow is naked,
asleep in the stable.
With rose-colored thread,
a spider in the night
spins a shimmering robe
the color of dawn.
Who can tell me the reason
at times the child cries?
In her breast Mary fears
leaves falling like autumn,
down they come fluttering,
butterflies fleeing.
The eyes of the child
with drops overflowing.
With their capes and their bundles
soaked with the dew,
the shepherds arrive
and kneel to the child.
Restive, mooing and baaing
the animals worship.
With hands that are weary
of baggage and travel
Joseph ponders the angel;
his tiredness gone,
and warm light fulfills him,
a soft avalanche.
A cloudburst of seagulls
falls over the stable.
Who can tell where they come from,
who can tell why they settle,
who can tell me the reason
at times the child cries?
The donkey can see
in the eyes of the child
the doves he is watching;
from happier times
joy returns to these hours.
All alone, the soul trembles.**
The child enters the city,
death spreads a red carpet;
he sits on the donkey
with eyes overflowing.
The City cries at his coming,
deaf multitudes running.
Who can tell me the reason
at times the child cries?
Covered with whispers
a night out of time,
the stable fills everything
with music and fragrance
as if all the glory
were born in this center,
and the kingdom were seeking
its place amid shadows.
The child sees the crowds,
bitter thorns that they carry,
thorns biting the wind,
the thorns; and his crown has
more light than all diamonds
more sun than the sunrise.
Who can tell me the reason
at times the child cries?
They come with the spices
later used by the shadows
to silence his voice …
And Judas, betrayer,
shows soldiers the way
to come with their torches.
They come with the spices
from lands of the East,
strange men who are chanting
their hymns to Messiah,
they bow low in reverence;
the anguish comes later.
In his place they kill children,
Rachel mourns, she is crazy,
she cannot be silent.
Oh my child! Why does Caesar
refuse to hear God?
Why wait so long, God,
so much blood for King Herod,
so many hopes broken?
Who can tell me the reason
at times the child cries?
Every century celebrates
with lights and bright angels,
the star of great promise
that’s born on this night.
The people are drifting
in the waves, in the storms,
and cannot awaken.
Why forsake me, my Father.
In the stable all’s quiet,
someone prays in a corner.
Can you tell me the reason
at times the child cries.
Stars fall to their knees,
the heart is so flustered.
Mother, Joseph, the magi.
Disciples, Golgotha
The cross, nails and blood,
Angels gathered around him.
The human face changes.
Forgive them, my Father.
The manger becomes
two beams that are crying.
The shepherds are silent,
they wait for the glory.
The Lamb is now watching
the radiance looming.
Age after age,
and death after death —
many can’t tell the reason
under the tree, Jesus cries.
* In Spanish-speaking countries it is the custom to put a Nativity scene
under a Christmas tree.
** José Martí
Jorge Luis Peña Reyes is assistant clerk of Cuba Yearly Meeting. He has published several books of poetry. The Spanish original of this poem, read by the author, can be found at http://vozymirada.blogspot.com/2010/12/bajo-el-arbol-de-jorge-luis-pena-reyes.html.
Susan Furry and Benigno Sánchez-Eppler, both members of New England Yearly Meeting, have collaborated in translating several Quaker works into Spanish.