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Het gedicht voor deze week voorafgaand aan Pinksteren is 'To Live with the Spirit' van Jessica Powers (uit 1949):

'To live with the Spirit of God is to be a listener.
It is to keep the vigil of mystery,
earthless and still.
One leans to catch the stirring of the Spirit,
strange as the wind’s will.

The soul that walks where the wind of the Spirit blows
turns like a wandering weather-vane toward love.
It may lament like Job or Jeremiah,
echo the wounded hart, the mateless dove.
It may rejoice in spaciousness of meadow
that emulates the freedom of the sky.

Always it walks in waylessness, unknowing;
it has cast down forever from its hand
the compass of the whither and the why.

To live with the Spirit of God is to be a lover.
It is becoming love, and like to Him
toward Whom we strain with metaphors of creatures:
fire-sweep and water-rush and the wind’s whim.
The soul is all activity, all silence;
and though it surges Godward to its goal,
it holds, as moving earth holds sleeping noonday,
the peace that is the listening of the soul.'

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Het gedicht voor deze week is 'Batter my heart, three-personed God' van John Donne (uit de Holy Sonnets 1633):

'Batter my heart, three-personed 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 usurped town to another due,
Labor to admit You, but O, to no end.
Reason, Your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love You, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto Your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to You, imprison me, for I,
Except You enthral me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me.'

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Het gedicht voor deze week is 'The Dream of the Rood' (oorspronkelijk oud-Engels, anoniem, uit een 10e-eeuws manuscript):

'Now you might hear, my beloved

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Het gedicht voor deze week is 'God's Grandeur' van Gerard Manley Hopkins (uit 1877):

'The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.'

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Het gedicht voor deze week is 'Love (III)' van George Herbert (uit The Temple 1633):

'Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back
                             Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
                             From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
                             If I lacked any thing.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
                             Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
                             I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
                             Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
                             Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
                             My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
                             So I did sit and eat.'

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Het gedicht voor deze week is 'Praise to the Holiest in the height' van John Henry Newman (uit 'The Dream of Gerontius' 1865):

'Praise to the Holiest in the height,
and in the depth be praise:
in all his words most wonderful,
most sure in all his ways.

O loving wisdom of our God!
When all was sin and shame,
a second Adam to the fight
and to the rescue came.

O wisest love! that flesh and blood,
which did in Adam fail,
should strive afresh against the foe,
should strive and should prevail;

And that a higher gift than grace
should flesh and blood refine,
God's presence and his very self,
and essence all-divine.

O generous love! that he, who smote
in man for man the foe,
the double agony in man
for man should undergo;

And in the garden secretly,
and on the cross on high,
should teach his brethren, and inspire
to suffer and to die.'

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Leuk dat je luistert naar de allereerste aflevering van The Soul in Paraphrase.

Het gedicht voor deze week is 'Easter Hymn' van Henry Vaughan (uit Silex Scintillans 1650):

'Death, and darkness get you packing,
Nothing now to man is lacking,
All your triumphs now are ended,
And what Adam marred, is mended;
Graves are beds now for the weary,
Death a nap, to wake more merry;
Youth now, full of pious duty,
Seeks in thee for perfect beauty,
The weak, and aged tired, with length
Of days, from thee look for new strength,
And infants with thy pangs contest
As pleasant, as if with the breast;
Then, unto him, who thus hath thrown
Even to contempt thy kingdom down,
And by his blood did us advance
Unto his own inheritance,
To him be glory, power, praise,
From this, unto the last of days.'

We zijn benieuwd naar wat je van deze podcast vindt. Laat het weten via Instagram (@the_soul_in_paraphrase) of via een review in je podcast-app. Bedankt!

Dit is The Soul in Paraphrase, een gloednieuwe podcast door Eli & Elijne.

Benieuwd naar wat je van de podcast kunt verwachten? Beluister dan nu de trailer!

Wil je ons (alvast) volgen? Dat kan op Instagram: @the_soul_in_paraphrase.