Blessed Are They Who Shed Tears! Poem by Alex Koonthanam

Never your soul melted in tears,
Or shuddered in anguishing fears?
If so, it'll not be retarding,
For woe non shall be discarding;
It's a law, ne'er an ill Omen
That alike embraces all men -
The royal who recline in velvet bed,
Or the lowly who beg their daily bread.
Hold not on deceiving credence
That tears bypass your presence.
Inevitably on some morrow
Your days'll too be drenched in sorrow
Ev'ry man must cross this torrent,
And gulp from its bitter content.

If you're poor, you pine in distress
For what you can ne'er possess;
If you're rich, fear the common lot
That decrees man take along naught.
If for someone you nurture tender thoughts
You sigh for there is no love if not
Accompanied by tears; if you hate
Your neighbour you suffer this state
No more with pleasant dreams blest.
If you're ignorant, your tears flow
For things that you've not come to know;
If you deem yourself a sapient,
You weep for what still to be learnt.
If life throbs in you, you feel the pangs
For the scythe of death overhangs;
You mourn writhing under death's sway
For the dear life silently slips away.


For your life of insolence you grieve,
'Cause you do nothing, nor nothing give;
If you toil, the burthen lament
For it brings along wariness, sweat.
You weep if you're honest, virtuous
For the path before seems so tortuous;
If vices are your life-journey's mates
You whine under their fetter's weights.
E'er be there a child that in tears
Invoked not its mother to dispel its fears?
Or a mom that no anguishing vigil kept,
And nigh the fruit of her womb wept?

Sorrow has knocked on ev'ry door
And tears flowed through ev'ry floor;
Ev'ry door bewailing closed behind
Someone departing amidst mankind.
Ev'ry heart has someday known breaks,
And so yours too someday suffered aches.
Ne'er vain tears shed, for if you do
They shall mere mire and dirt turn to;
Send them to the heavens above,
Bright beams'll turn them to pearls of love;
Ignorant of their immense value
They find not favour in mundane view.
Silent falls man before your woe,
Helpless what to be done, doesn't know.

But despair not, for someone there
Who hears ev'ry plea, sees ev'ry tear
Beside you with extended hands
To collect ev'ry tear you shed stands
Gently he accounts them one by one,
Sows them in his heav'nly garden
Where they'll bloom under his loving glance
And scatter consolation's fragrance.

So in anguish do not despair,
Nor uselessly shed your precious tear;
They're but precious seeds to be sown
Whose fruits for all mankind to own.

translated from the Italian by Alex Koonthanam