The Fast of Tebeth

LO! I recall the siege which fell on me:

Within this month He struck me; He destroyed

With three blows;—cut me down and left me void;—

Now He hath made me weary utterly.

He silenced on the eighth day all my throng;

(Have I not for three things a fast proclaimed?)

The King bade; write the law in Greek; they maimed,

They ploughed on me; they made their furrows long.

Upon the ninth day—wrath, disgrace, and shame!

Stripped off was my fair robe in honor worn;

For he who gave sweet words was surely torn:

Ezra the scribe—yea, he of blessed name.

The tenth day; then the seer was bidden: “Yea

Write thee within the book of vision; write

This for remembrance; now shalt thou indite

For them despised and crushed this self-same day.”

Counting the months, within the tenth the woe

And wail he wakened; but the sorrow’s smart—

Its onward way was branded on my heart

When one came saying: “The city is struck low.”

For these things I have scattered o’er me dust;

O that a shaft had pierced mine heart that day!

For such woe I would dig my grave;—but nay,

I wrought rebelliously: the Lord is just.

I call Thee, Thou Who hast repentance nigh

For mine affliction; lo! my praying heed;

Hear my beseeching; my salvation speed;

Hide Thee not at my sighing, at my cry.

O moon of Tebeth! exceeding is my sum

Of pain therein, when His face changed for me.

Yet, though I sinned, His goodness I shall see,

Who saith: “Ye waves, but so far shall ye come.”