So many Christmas poems from which to choose. E.U. Fanthrope’s lines:
“And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.”
And always, but I won’t quote it again, the greatest Christmas poem of them all, T.S. Eliot’s “Journey of the Magi”. Go and google it.
I like the Roman poet Martial’s begging letter to a rich friend:
“For New Year, Postumus, ten years ago,
You sent me four pounds of good silver-plate.
The next year, hoping for a rise in weight
(For gifts should either stay the same or grow)
I got two pounds. The third and fourth produced
Inferior presents, and the fifth year’s weighed
Only a pound – Septicius’ work, ill-made
Into the bargain. Next I was reduced
To an eight-ounce oblong salad-platter; soon
It was a miniature cup that tipped the scales
At even less. A tiny two-ounce spoon
Was the eighth year’s surprise. The ninth, at length,
And grudgingly, disgorged a pick for snails
Lighter than a needle. Now, I note, the tenth
Has come and gone with nothing in its train.
I miss the old four pounds. Let’s start again!”
Christmas is about the unique drama of a miraculous birth intended to save all mankind. It does not mark some gentle, festive, reassuring and comfortable everyday event. It involves an occurrence that shook the world and shakes it to this day. This is why I have a special liking for Ted Hughes’s Christmas poem “ Minstrel’s Song” which gives some feeling and sense of the tremendous drama, strangeness and searing impact of this birth that re-started history.
