POEM: Celena, Brave Celena- Part 1 From Judges 11.

Celena, Brave Celena- Part 1 From Judges 11. Pronunciation: Seh-LAY-nah His brothers cast the young man out, the child of an harlot; He fled away to distant Tob before they found an outlet For anger, more than what they'd done, to fully disinherit And drive him from his father's house, though not for foul demerit Within himself, but all for greed- it made them hate their brother. Now Jephthah lives his life alone, without a father, mother; He goes about with newfound friends, considered rather shady: At least he does not get too wild; he found himself a lady, And has a one and only child, a daughter like her mother. She's tall and slim, with long, black hair; as fair as any other, And loves to dance and sing and play her timbrels with the daughters Of the mighty men of Tob, who play their music by the waters Of the brimming banks of Yarmuk; lovely music, song, and dancing, In the evening, in the twilight, which is wordlessly enchanting; So much so that all the stars come out before the sun has drifted Below the burning desert sands, thus Nature's course has shifted From what it was, what e'er has been his want, his call of duty, And all to see some pretty maids who sing and dance with beauty. The Ammonites come, bent on war, on taking land and cattle; They'd kill the men of Gilead and claim the spoils of battle: The land that once belonged to Sihon, which Israel gained possession, Then Joshua allotted to the sons of Gad and Reuben. Thus Ammon claimed what was not his, but what he thought he needed; And Israel must be captained well, or else they'll be defeated. The elders ride in haste to Tob, to Jephthah's lordly dwelling To find the man who would be best and see if he is willing; But Jephthah said, "Did you not hate me? Did you not expel me Out of my father's house, and now you come to me and tell me Of your need when in distress? If I by some rare providential Act of mercy be successful, will you lay aside resentful Ways and set me over you?" And this they would; they needed badly A man who knew the art of war, who charged in battle madly; So they agreed and made him captain over all the forces, The leader of the fighting men, the officers, and horses. Then Jephthah vowed a vow to God, he said, "If Thou wilt give me A vict'ry over Ammon, then returning I will give Thee Whatsoever first will greet me at the doorway of my dwelling As an offering of fire for a savor sweet of smelling Unto Thee." And having spoken he departed to the battle With his whole command of soldiers, with a clash and tramp and rattle: And they smote and killed the Ammonites until the Plain of Vineyards; In twenty cities passing through as Jephthah drove them downwards. The town of Mizpeh heard the news and every mouth was voicing The praises of their leader and his soldiers with rejoicing; Then, as they saw him from afar, the townsfolk all assembled To cheer their hero, now their judge; but mighty Jephthah trembled, For as he came unto his house his daughter came to meet him With timbrels and with dances from his door she came to greet him; Her raven tresses bouncing, and her flowing dresses swirling; Her face alight with happiness, and glowing as she's twirling. She smiles at her hero from the battlefront returning, But he cannot return it for the raging storm that's churning Inside himself, and making him so weak and sick and frightful For his daughter, lovely daughter, blessed with grace and so delightful. And he said, "O sweet Celena, you have cast my spirit downward, For I've vowed a vow that's binding, and I cannot take it backward; I have sworn to make a sacrifice of fire of whatever First would meet me at the doorway of my house; but I had never Thought that it should be a person, but a heifer or a doeling, Or perhaps a dove or pigeon." Here he stopped, for tears were rolling Down his cheeks, and rent his clothing as he stood there, crushed and grieving; Amazed at what he'd done, and even now not quite believing His hand must wield the wicked knife; his hand must light the fire; His hand must end his daughter's life; his hand must build the pyre. He stared at his offending limbs, said, "Would to God I'd lost them;" For now he had to tell his wife how much his oath had cost them. Then Celena, brave Celena said, "Perform what you have spoken; For the Lord has taken vengeance and the Ammonites are broken: Only grant me two months longer so that I and my companions May bewail my virgin state among the mountains and the canyons." One word was all that he could say, the one word, "Go," and held her A moment to his bosom as his teary eyes beheld her; A chain of gold about her neck, dress gay with colored sashes; A tremble in her ruby lips, a teardrop in her lashes. Then turning from her father, to the wilderness she stumbled; Her eyes so filled with tears that down the road she tripped and tumbled, And lay a while in the deep, deep dust that rose above her; Then stripped her golden necklace, one gold ring and then the other And threw them from her to be swallowed by the dusty powder: "What good is gold?" she softly mumbled, crying ever louder. Retreating to the lonely cliffs, the desert's jagged mountains, Where desolation reigns enthroned, except for by the fountains And streams that bring a thread of life, that ever downward trailing Flows by the place where seven maidens gather as they're wailing The loss of faithful friend, the favored, beautiful Celena, Who would not flee, but e'er would be the dutiful Celena, Submitting to her father's vow, though leading to her dying. The place that used to ring with song and laughter fills with crying; And music now is sighing of the maids and lonesome whispers Of the wind. And those who danced are aimless wanderers and drifters, Seldom speaking: consolation is but vain when 'tis imparted To a soul whose days are numbered when its life has barely started.