Jan Kochanowski (1530-84)
As I squirmed in the heat and oppressive humidity of this year’s mid-August, searching the sky like Elijah for a rain-bearing cloud, this poem came into my mind more cogently than ever before. The period in which Kochanowski lived was noted for its severe winters, but some extreme summers were also recorded in that part of Europe and I can’t help feeling that this poem was written from personal experience of such a summer.
Prayer for Rain
Eternal giver, Steward of all good things,
All pray for rain, the sad herbs drooping low,
The earth itself, burnt by the flaming sun,
The thirsty grain, the hope of those who sow.
Squeeze the moist clouds with your hand divine,
Water the scorched trees and the dry earth’s dust;
You who caused the springs to spurt from rocks
By miracle, bestow your gifts on us!
You sprinkle dew at night and generously
Add water to the rivers onward borne.
You drench the abyss and all-devouring sea
That nourishes the stars and fiery dawn.
If you so wish, the world will drown entire,
Or perish, if you wish, like a feather in fire.
Modlitwa o deszcz
Wszego dobrego Dawca i Szafarzu wieczny,
Tobie ziemia, spalona przez ogień słoneczny,
Modli się dżdża i smętne zioła pochylone,
I nadzieja oraczów, zboża upragnione.
Ściśni wilgotne chmury świętą ręką swoją,
A ony suchą ziemię i drzewa napoją
Ogniem zjęte; o, który z suchej skały zdroje
Niesłychane pobudzasz, okaż dary swoje!
Ty nocną rosę spuszczasz, Ty dostatkiem hojnym
Żywej wody dodawasz rzekom niespokojnym.
Ty przepaści nasycasz i łakome morze,
Stąd gwiazdy żywność mają i ogniste zorze.
Kiedy Ty chcesz, wszytek świat powodzią zatonie,
A kiedy chcesz, od ognia jako pióro wspłonie.
At first sight this prayer to an all-powerful God, who can create or destroy at will and upon whom all life depends, seems quite conventional for its times in theme and imagery. The references to the Bible (Moses striking water from a rock during the exodus from Egypt) and to Greek mythology (the sun rising replenished each day from the sea) would both be familiar to the poet’s first readers and everything else seems quite straightforward. But Kochanowski’s distinct personality and tone give it a special appeal.
I found myself comparing ‘Prayer for Rain’ with another poem about heat and drought by Kochanowski’s younger contemporary Sebastian Grabowiecki (c.1543-1607). This poem, from his ‘Spiritual Rhymes’ (Rymy Duchowne, I.18), makes reference not to God but to such cataclysmic images from classical culture as the volcano Etna and the constellations ruling human destiny, building up an apocalyptic vision of earth in the process of destruction. But the tone seems somewhat detached. Only in the last lines is the poet’s real concern revealed: despite the heat felt by others, he shivers in terror, because this heat is nothing in comparison with the fires of hell. The vision of a burning earth has itself been only an elaborate image, a foil for the speaker’s individual sense of sin and his personal fear of the life to come.
To turn back to Kochanowski is to hear a different, more humane voice. He is not preoccupied with his own spiritual salvation but with the physical survival of earth itself, the ‘sad’ drooping plants and ‘thirsty’ crops as well as the humans who sow the seed. In his urgency he addresses God directly, in the command form: ‘Squeeze the moist clouds with your hand divine’. (How often have I murmured these words to myself this summer, looking up at some darkening cloud overhead!) There is no ‘I’ in this poem, but we feel the warm presence of someone who delights in and cares for all forms of earthly life and speaks spontaneously on our behalf.
Grabowiecki’s poem is an accomplished ‘Petrarchan’ sonnet: the ideas are precisely structured and the very challenging rhyme scheme is perfectly executed. Kochanowski’s artistry is not so obvious. He writes in rhyming couplets, the most commonly used verse form of his times and one he uses extensively in his translations of the biblical ‘Psalms’. He seems very much at home in this measure; the lines seem to flow as easily as blank verse in English. His rhythms are easy on the voice and to the ear and the verse has a leisurely, almost conversational quality. But, unobtrusively, the couplets also fall into the structure of a ‘Shakespearean’ sonnet. Each of the 4-line sections has its own theme but at the same time flows naturally into the next, while the last couplet, as so often in the sonnets of Shakespeare, gives the poem a disturbing twist. The great Giver and generous Steward is also capable of total destruction.
The ultimate helplessness of humans before seemingly arbitrary forces is a theme for all times. For Kochanowski and his contemporaries it was natural to ascribe this to the mysterious ways of God. Today we are more likely to dwell on the mysteries of climate change and our own contribution to it. But the possibilities so forcefully presented in Kochanowski’s final couplet of a world that will either ‘drown’ or ‘perish … like a feather in fire’ have become simultaneous realities for us as our television screens show us devastating floods and forest fires occurring at the same time in the same country. Frames of reference may change, but the strength of feeling remains, and the poem seems even to increase in significance with the passage of time.
The Polish word for ‘feather’ (pióro) is also used for ‘pen’, as ‘quill’ was formerly in English. Kochanowski’s pen seems in no danger of perishing. A quick glance at the internet reveals several educational sites reproducing and commenting on this poem. Even newspapers have reproduced it on their front pages along with photographs of present-day summer drought in rural Poland. Nearly 500 years after his birth this genial, compassionate poet still speaks to the heart.
Image: Wikimedia Commons: Tytus Maleszewski / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)
Poetry For Everyone 
