Joy and Sorrow in One Cup
When you go to war
And you win the battle
And you come home triumphant
Rejoicing that you’ve won
What d’you do when you meet
The families of those fallen at war?
Do you suppress your joy?
Does your sorrow now float atop?
Even before you meet
The loved ones of the fallen
What do you think, what do you say
About your friend, your bosom friend perhaps
With whom you’ve suddenly parted on the battle field?
Joy and sorrow in one cup, but not mixing
And none floating on the other.
The last time a mystery as such surfaced
It was at the Sea of Reeds
But the standing water, even then,
Gave clear joy to the beneficiaries of the stand
They had clear joy indeed —
No mixing, no floating, and no sorrow beside
When a child gets to high places
The mother rejoices, the father celebrates
But what if the child brings shame and sorrow
By acting like a total buffoon
In manners, in society, and at home perhaps?
Do the parents rejoice still? Do they occasionally blame themselves?
Does one blame the other
That a child so loved is devoid of humanity?
There’s joy in an aspect of the child’s success
But there’s sorrow in another, and it’s glaring.
Joy and sorrow
In a cup we carry
Many times in life