By Ziyi Chang

Translation by Lance Pan

In the whispering wind
Along Jerusalem’s ancient terraces
Weeps the early spring rain

An all-night trial unfolds
Denigrating accusations hurled
Until dawn arrives, veiled
Shielding your exhausted frame

The fig tree, once barren
Now sprouts tender shoots
Grand and holy is the temple
Taken up by a motley crew
High priests and officials
Soldiers and passersby
(But what does it matter?)

The mockery’s cruelty
Is weighed by the cross’ heft
The Via Dolorosa stretches on
Measured by your faltering steps
(But who truly comprehends?)

Lush grass paints the horizon green,
Intermittent wails pierce the chilled air
Behold! Scanning the mass below
You say, don’t cry for me

Daughters of Jerusalem

(From Luke 23:27-28; 03/12/2024 Boston)