Martin,
Indeed, the section of the Faure requiem was played and the latin is from
that. 'Familia' relates to the Italian side of the family (my partner's - her
mother died last week). It was a very difficult moment and appears to be a
very difficult family, most of whom I met for the first time yesterday (and
some found it hard to actually acknowledge me). I never met Annette's mother
but I know a lot about her, in one sense. So I think you can get some idea
from that.
The cypresses, as a friend of mine pointed out, seem so out-of-pace and
slightly spooky in an Australian setting such as this. The white ladies
are actually a funeral company who, I must say, do things very well, just as
you'd want. And two crows (or, as Mark would know, Australian ravens), flew
over as we gathered around afterwards. Many Indigenous nations believe they
are actually kadaitcha or are basically not good to have around. I didn't
interpret them quite like that, being a white city gal. But there was all that
wasn't said by a preacher and a brother unable to acknowledge .. etc etc etc.
And the grey wing? It was very cloudy and overcast in the morning, then the
sun came out. Always weather in my poems. And decades of sleep - well, the
suburbs, the suburbs!
I've gone on too long. We drank a toast to Doris sometime later.
I'm sorry to hear of your friend's loss.
Best,
Jill
> A very lovely poem, Jill, I'll chime in with Stephen here, without an
> immediate personal reason, though I am thinking of a dear friend's loss
> of a brother today; the vision is mysterious and not quite graspable to
> me, which I like, but will nevertheless ask why "familia", and whether
> you were thinking of the Fauré requiem (which is the only one I can
> think of with the "In paradisum" - unless the Duruflé, which I
canno> t
> recall), what "the grey wing" is and what "drone and lists". I love the
> assonances, those "ow" sounds, the secret relation between cypresses,
> white ladies and black crows, the "decades of sleep" becoming "aeternam
> requiem".
> mj
> Jill Jones wrote:
>
> > Where, in paradisum?
> >
> > staring into rain
> > memory going north
> > by red brick burrows
> > in paradisum deducant te angeli
> > there�s the grey wing
> > the dark trees
> > decades of sleep
> >
> > over the glassy way
> > left into the river valley
> > this we both know
> > in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres
> > but of the things
> > no-one can know
> > can we sing?
> >
> > cypresses out of place
> > out of any place
> > out of body and history
> > et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem
> > here�s the carpark
> > the unknown familia
> > the white ladies
> >
> > sorry, these are lies
> > two black crows
> > the mischief knows
> > chorus angelorum te suscipiat
> > finally a sedative response
> > truth stays outside
> > we�d go there
> >
> > wooden, concealed
> > beyond drone and lists
> > beyond any more capture
> > et cum Lazaro quondam paupere
> > sickness in the blood
> > age�s close down
> > hides any bruise
> >
> > say not
> > say
> > ay
> > aeternam habeas requiem
> > rescue
> > now the sun
> > on the living
> >
> > (D.E.W. 1931-2005)
> >
> >
> > Jill Jones
> > Northern Suburbs Crematorium, 1pm, 18 May 2005
> >
> >
> > _______________________________________________________
> > Jill Jones
> >
> > Latest books:
> > Broken/Open. Available from Salt Publishing
> > http://www.saltpublishing.com/books/smp/1844710416.htm
> >
> > Where the Sea Burns. Wagtail Series. Picaro Press
> > PO Box 853, Warners Bay, NSW, 2282. [log in to unmask]
> >
> > Struggle and radiance: ten commentaries (Wild Honey Press)
> > http://www.wildhoneypress.com
> >
> > web site: http://homepages.ihug.com.au/~jpjones
> > blog1: Ruby Street http://rubystreet.blogspot.com/
> > blog2: Latitudes http://itudes.blogspot.com/
> >
>
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