End of July has come when the sun’s rays beat
But a gentle wind comes to calm the heat.
From Byblos to Annaya has come a happy crowd
‘Neath a star-studded sky with beauty all around.
The lights that shine in heaven sown by a mighty hand
Speak of power divine giving splendor to the land.
By sacrament sublime bride and bridegroom will unite
Two beings joined as one in sacramental rite.
This feast has been awaited for a whole year long,
Now Natures adds a voice to the joyful throng.
‘Neath the wheeling vault above, the music of the pipe
Brings the children dancing, a magical delight.
Recollection, chant and organ, solemnity of prayer,
The guests are all entranced with the festive air.
The father of the bridegroom has taken every care
That all should be in order, no effort did he spare,
For this son he is the youngest, who now his home will leave,
Hence the special honor this wedding will receive.
Near Annaya of the Hermit all is happy melody
Foretaste of the joy that in heaven there will be.
All the kith and kin, friends from far and near,
Have come with Paul and Rose, the marriage vows to hear.
The crowds are milling round full of laughter and of talk
The moon is at the quarter, smiling down upon them all.
The myst’ries of the future are writ in heaven’s face,
The houses of the Zodiac and the stars of deepest space.
Diana comes forth slowly, robed in spotless white,
Facing Hermit Sharbel, patron of the site.
The children never tire though the hour is getting late,
With games to play and songs, and stories to relate.

But fate now plays a hand for in the mountain block
For many hundred years there has hung a massive rock.
Now at this hour it crashes down and claims a victim small
A boy is on the instant crushed by the monster’s fall.
On every side despair, for nothing can be done,
Cries of horror fill the air, of celebration there is none.
From time immemorial that rock had always stood,
Poised on firm foundations, as though ‘twere there for good,
Standing there unmoving, born of the mountain side,
Weather-beaten by the tempests which its strength has long defied.
What sudden force of evil after this long age
Coming out from nowhere brought on this sudden rage?
One of those happy children was object of its wrath,
Too swiftly overtaken to flee its vengeful path.
The eyes turned to the altar sought for help in vain,
The poor child’s loving mother could not the rock restrain;
Poor mother in her sorrow, tears run down her face
For the son she loved so dearly and no longer can embrace.
She is like that other mother two thousand years ago
Who standing by the Cross shared every mother’s woe.
We wonder why our God allows such cruel pain,
We see it as an evil that from the devil came.
Our Lord himself for Lazarus shed a stressful tear
But to the widow gave her son who’d lain upon the bier.

But the meaning of this trial is something we must find
Though both pain and horror overwhelm the mind.
Job was just before the Lord and had a noble name,
He certainly did not deserve the suffering and pain.
Did some devil come from hell to heave this massy stone,
Mocking love and prayer to make his power known?
Life must just go on, as Valéry has said,
And listen, dearest Paul, in Malherbe I have read,
“O Perrier, your sorrow eternal cannot be!”
It was no fault of yours, this ghastly sight we see.
« Pauvres gens ; ces choses-là sont rudes!
Vas les chercher ! » was Hugo’s fateful mood.
That parish priest, your forebear, with his faith so pure,
Trusted in his God though His purpose be obscure;
He would have bowed his head, then turned back to his task
Sure that little Philip in God’s glory now did bask.
Did not Jesus on the cross to the thief who shared his pain
Not say “With me in heaven soon you are to reign”?
Philip’s soul it is not lost and his grace shall help us live.
Our faith remains, dear Paul, and it has much to give.

Joseph Matar
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Translated from French: K.J.Mortimer