Charity (10)
The Pilgrims group, the caravan,
Was led by a preacher, a scarecrow man,
Who sought to teach within the village,
To merchants, tradesmen, men of tillage;
It was to the Priest he revealed his plan,
His followers stepped in his van,
Enraptured by his saintly visions
They followed him without provisions;
He asked for shelter from the road,
The barn would do as their abode;
They relied on God to provide,
The Priest, unsure, asked them inside;
The Prioress huffed at this decision,
She stoked the stoves with much derision;
"Last year the harvest had been poor,
We can feed ourselves but not much more, "
She argued as she told the Priest,
'These beggar-saints if they want a feast,
Then let them multiply these small loaves; '
She slammed the bread into the stoves;
'Last year the grapes rotted on the vine,
Let them turn this water into wine,
If he wants his companions to be fed,
Let him raise the wheat that makes the bread!
These righteous men who walk the road
Unburdened by a harvest load;
Unburdened by mere earthly toil,
Let them eat the fruits of their own soil.'
Sister Mary Ruth (11)
It was the Nun who served the soup
Who recognized one of the troop;
She nearly dropped the serving bowl,
Her heart beat wildly then turned cold;
For within the haggard, wrinkled face,
Beneath the hair, she saw a trace
Of the young friend of her youth;
How this staggered Sister Ruth;
Sister Mary Ruth by name
Was broken hearted and so ashamed
When her fellow Novice had decamped,
Then returned to be called a tramp;
Beneath the scraggily hay loft hair
Had been a face once called fair;
But that smooth cheek where bloomed the rose
Time had ploughed in craggy rows;
She saw the pleading in her old eyes,
She felt a hand brush against her thigh,
She saw her gently shake her head,
She filled her bowl as she pled;
Sister Ruth moved down the table,
She would escape as soon as able
To think about how Novice Ann,
The victim of the lust of man,
Had fallen to this lowly state,
She crossed herself and filled a plate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem