William Everson*

William Everson (1912—1994) is a northern California poet, known as part of the beat movement of San Francisco in the 1950s. His early books such as These Are The Ravens (1935) established him as a nature poet. He embraced Catholicism in 1948, and he entered the Dominican Order as Brother Antoninus in 1951.

His rise to fame came during this time of discovered faith — as his second wife returned to church, and encouraged him to join her. Ironically, because they had both previously been married their union was not recognized by the Catholic church, and so they separated and, years later, divorced.

In 1957 Kennoth Rexroth’s “San Francisco Letter” in the Evergreen Review declared the significance of this new movement of poets — including William Everson — which established him in the popular press as “The Beat Friar,” and led to readings across the US and as far away as Europe.

He left the Dominican Order in 1969 for a secular life to allow himself to pursue a romantic relationship with the woman who would become his third wife; he did, however, maintain his poetic vocation and his Christian faith.

Out of the Ash

Solstice of the dark, the absolute
Zero of the year. Praise God
Who comes for us again, our lives
Pulled to their fisted knot,
Cinched tight with cold, drawn
To the heart’s constriction; our faces
Seamed like clinkers in the grate,
Hands like tongs—Praise God
That Christ, phoenix immortal,
Springs up again from solstice ash,
Drives his equatorial ray
Into our cloud, emblazons
Our stiff brow, fries
Our chill tears. Come Christ,
Most gentle and throat-pulsing Bird!
O come, sweet Child! Be gladness
In our church! Waken with anthems
Our bare rafters! O phoenix
Forever! Virgin-wombed
And burning in the dark,
Be born! Be born!

*This is the second Kingdom Poets post about William Everson: first post.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Cascade) ― a book of poems written from the point-of-view of angels. His books are available through Wipf & Stock.

Gwenallt

Gwenallt (1899―1968) is a Welsh poet, born as David James Jones, who adopted Gwenallt as his bardic name which he created “by transposing Alltwen, the name of the village across the river from his birthplace”. At age 16 he joined the Marxist Labour Party, and during the latter part of WWI was imprisoned as a conscientious objector. After the war he studied Welsh, and by 1927 was appointed Lecturer in the Welsh Department of University College Wales, Aberystwyth.

He outgrew the political idealism of his youth, but also faced disillusionment with other structures. He was passed over, time and again, for a professorship by college authorities, and he was unsettled in his search for a spiritual home ― reacting strongly to what was said or done by church leadership. He was raised as a Nonconformist, flirted with Catholicism, became a member of the Church of Wales for many years, but ended his days as a member of a Methodist Chapel at Aberystwyth.

Gwenallt wrote his poetry in Welsh, and the first of his five poetry collections, Ysgubau’r Awen (1939), was published to much critical acclaim; in time he became a major voice in Welsh poetry. He also eventually wrote two novels, although his poetry remains more influential. He is noteworthy for his passionate, spiritual voice, his precise local imagery, and the universal significance of his themes.

Here are two English versions of one of Gwenallt’s poems ― which I include for comparison, and to demonstrate how the translating of poetry is akin to writing the poem afresh, hopefully as close to the spirit of the original as possible. The first version was translated by Patrick Thomas ― from Sensuous Glory: The Poetic Vision of D. Gwenallt Jones (2000, Canterbury Press); and the second is translated by Rowan Williams, from his book Headwaters (2008, Perpetua Press). Patrick Thomas and Rowan Williams have both granted me permission to include their translations.

Sin

When we strip off every kind of dress,
The cloak of respectability and wise knowledge,
The cloth of culture and the silks of learning;
The soul's so bare, so uncleanly naked:
The primitive mud is in our poor matter,
The beast's slime is in our marrow and our blood,
The bow's arrow is between our finger and thumb
And the savage dance is in our feet.
As we wander through the original, free forest,
We find between the branches a piece of Heaven,
Where the saints sing anthems of grace and faith,
The Magnificat of His salvation;
We raise our nostrils up like wolves
Baying for the Blood that redeemed us.

Sin

Take off the business suit, the old-school tie,
The gown, the cap, drop the reviews, awards,
Certificates, stand naked in your sty,
A little carnivore, clothed in dried turds.
The snot that slowly fills our passages
Seeps up from hollows where the dead beasts lie;
Dumb stamping dances spell our messages,
We only know what makes our arrows fly.
Lost in the wood, we sometimes glimpse the sky
Between the branches, and the words drop down
We cannot hear, the alien voices high
And hard, singing salvation, grace, life, dawn.
Like wolves, we lift our snouts: Blood, blood, we cry,
The blood that bought us so we need not die.

This post was suggested by my friend Burl Horniachek.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Cascade) ― a book of poems written from the point-of-view of angels. His books are available through Wipf & Stock.

Thomas á Kempis

Thomas á Kempis (1380–1471) is the author of the well-known devotional book The Imitation of Christ, which was anonymously published in Latin in the Netherlands in 1418. He was born in Kempen, near Dusseldorf, Germany. He received Holy Orders in 1413 and was made sub-prior of the Monastery of Mount St. Agnes in the Dutch city of Zwolle in 1429.

Thomas’s responsibilities included copying manuscripts ― he is said to have copied the entire Bible at least four times ― and in teaching novices. He wrote four booklets for this purpose, which were eventually compiled as The Imitation of Christ.

Christian History says of The Imitation of Christ, “Sir Thomas More…said it was one of the three books everybody ought to own. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, read a chapter a day from it and regularly gave away copies as gifts. Methodist founder John Wesley said it was the best summary of the Christian life he had ever read.” Many consider it the most influential Christian book, next to the Bible itself.

Oh, Love

O love, how deep, how broad, how high,
beyond all thought and fantasy,
that God, the Son of God, should take
our mortal form for mortals' sake!

He sent no angel to our race,
of higher or of lower place,
but wore the robe of human frame,
and to this world himself he came.

For us baptized, for us he bore
his holy fast and hungered sore;
for us temptation sharp he knew,
for us the tempter overthrew.

For us he prayed, for us he taught;
for us his daily works he wrought,
by words and signs and actions thus
still seeking not himself but us.

For us, by wicked men betrayed,
for us, in crown of thorns arrayed,
he bore the shameful cross and death;
for us he gave his dying breath.

For us he rose from death again,
for us he went on high to reign;
for us he sent his Spirit here
to guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.

All glory to our Lord and God
for love so deep, so high, so broad,
the Trinity whom we adore
forever and forevermore.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Cascade) ― a book of poems written from the point-of-view of angels. His books are available through Wipf & Stock.

Sofia Starnes

Sofia Starnes is the author of six poetry collections, including The Consequence of Moonlight (2018, Paraclete) and Fully into Ashes (2011, Wings Press) and is a former Poet Laureate of Virginia. I know her best from her role as Poetry Editor at Anglican Theological Review, where she served from 2007 to 2020.

She was born and raised in The Philippines, speaking Spanish at home, and English at school. While in her teens, her family left for Spain, to escape the Marcos dictatorship. She took a degree in English Philology while in Spain, eventually married an American, and moved to New York.

Sofia Starnes recently told Fare Forward about the collection she is currently working on; all of the poems follow a 16th century form called the dizain, consisting of ten lines with ten beats per line. The following poem, which first appeared in Plough, is from this new manuscript.

Zeal

Oh, to imagine I’m shielding You, when You’re
secure as a chant in a red hymnal,
hope of our eyes. You step away on sure
voices, in a child’s throat made for canticle.

Oh, to dream I’m some ardent sentinel
bearing the moon on my watch, between a church
and a fire, when it’s You who lifts the torch,
clears the tares, so that we might see the stones

pointing home. You pick Your way through the scorch,
calling stragglers— Oh, those dallying bones.

Posted with permission of the poet.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Cascade) ― a book of poems written from the point-of-view of angels. His books are available through Wipf & Stock.

Robert Herrick*

Robert Herrick (1591―1674) is now considered one of the most important English poets of the 17th century, although this is a recent perspective. He was not well-known in his own lifetime, was almost forgotten in the 18th century, and has only risen in the esteem of scholars in the late 20th century. He produced just one extensive poetry collection: Hesperides: Or, The Works Both Humane & Divine (1648).

He was a member of the Sons of Ben, a group of poets and playwrights influenced by the writing of Ben Jonson; other poets associated with this group include, Richard Lovelace, Sir John Suckling, and Thomas Carew. Jonson and his followers regularly met in various London taverns.

Herrick took holy orders and was ordained into the Church of England in 1623, and in 1629 he became the vicar of Dean Prior in Devonshire.

His Wish to God

I would to God, that mine old age might have
Before my last, but here a living grave;
Some one poor almshouse, there to lie, or stir,
Ghost-like, as in my meaner sepulchre;
A little piggin, and a pipkin by,
To hold things fitting my necessity,
Which, rightly us'd, both in their time and place,
Might me excite to fore, and after, grace.
Thy cross, my Christ, fix'd 'fore mine eyes should be,
Not to adore that, but to worship Thee.
So here the remnant of my days I'd spend,
Reading Thy bible, and my book; so end.

*This is the third Kingdom Poets post about Robert Herrick: first post, second post.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Cascade) ― a book of poems written from the point-of-view of angels. His books are available through Wipf & Stock.