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