John Donne: Holy Sonnet XIV


Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to another due,
Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.


I thank Rev. Andrew T. Yeager for calling my attention to this poem.

With his permission, here are selections of what he wrote about it:


In the poem above, the poet John Donne brilliantly describes his relationship to God. He is like a town that is governed and tyrannized by an evil lord and master, the devil—an usurp’d town to another due. He very much wants God for his new Lord and Master, but he doesn’t have the strength within himself to admit God into his heart. His reason should do the work of opening a door to God. But his reason is held captive, like a prisoner in chains.

The poet wants to love and be loved by God. But he is betrothed to God’s enemy. He cannot free himself from the devil’s lordship over him. His heart is like the heavily armored walls of a fortress town over which the devil keeps watch. He cannot save himself; God alone can rescue him… He understands that God’s work in his life is a paradox: unless God batters and breaks him, he will never be free. Unless God ravishes him, he will never be chaste. God must break him down if he will ever be made new. God must kill him if he will ever live…

If we are saved, it must be completely and totally God who saves us. He must take a breach of the walls and invade the captive city. Apart from God’s work to deliver and save through the redemption of his beloved Son, we are lost forever.

Comentários

  1. Um poeta muito particular, por entre os chamados Metafísicos, ingleses, e que muito aprecio.
    E de que destaco a "Meditation XVIII" (No man is an island...) a que Hemingway foi buscar o título do seu romance "For whom the bell tolls".
    Um bom resto deste Domingo de S. João.

    ResponderEliminar
    Respostas
    1. Muito obrigado pela recomendação. Belo texto. Desconhecia.
      Bem-haja neste S. João.

      Eliminar
  2. Por lapso, e fiado na memória, que é sempre traiçoeira, indiquei-lhe a "Meditation XVIII", quando na realidade é a XVII, correctamente. Peço que me desculpe.
    Aproveito para acrescentar que, no Arpose, a 31/12/2014, tentei uma modesta versão, em português, das palavras de John Donne.
    Uma boa noite.

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    Respostas
    1. Na busca que fiz no Google, dei pelo lapso. Em qualquer dos casos, fui dar ao sítio certo :) Vou ler a sua versão no Arpose. Obrigado, também, por essa indicação.
      Uma boa noite igualmente para si.

      Eliminar

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