As indication for what I hope to soon post on Vox Nova, I present two texts. To the casual reader, the relationship between them might not be obvious. Yet, once my series on Sophia is done, I hope the reader will come to understand why these two texts, from two religious traditions, relate together and point to one of the great mysteries of God.
Does not wisdom call, does not understanding raise her voice? On the heights beside the way, in the paths she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries aloud: “To you, O men, I call, and my cry is to the sons of men.O simple ones, learn prudence; O foolish men, pay attention. Hear, for I will speak noble things, and from my lips will come what is right; for my mouth will utter truth; wickedness is an abomination to my lips. All the words of my mouth are righteous; there is nothing twisted or crooked in them. They are all straight to him who understands and right to those who find knowledge. Take my instruction instead of silver, and knowledge rather than choice gold; for wisdom is better than jewels, and all that you may desire cannot compare with her. I, wisdom, dwell in prudence, and I find knowledge and discretion. […]By me kings reign, and rulers decree what is just; by me princes rule, and nobles govern the earth. I love those who love me, and those who seek me diligently find me” (Prov. 8:1-12; 15-17 RSV).
Soft sandal mountain winds caress quivering vines of clove.
Forest huts hum with droning bees and crying cukoos.
When spring’s mood is rich, Hari roams here
To dance with young women, friend –
A cruel time for deserted lovers.
Lonely wives of travelers whine in love’s mad fantasies.
Bees swam over flowers clustered to fill mimosa branches.
When spring’s mood is rich, Hari roams here
To dance with young women, friend –
A cruel time for deserted lovers.
—-Barbara Stoler Miller, Love Song of the Dark Lord: Jayadeva’s Gitāgovinda (New York: Columbia University Press, 1977), 74.
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