Is this a holy thing to see,
In a rich and fruitful land,
Babes reduced to misery,
Fed with cold and usurous hand?
Is that trembling cry a song?
Can it be a song of joy?
And so many children poor?
It is a land of poverty!
And their sun does never shine.
And their fields are bleak & bare.
And their ways are fill’d with thorns.
It is eternal winter there.
“Holy Thursday” is a poem of the great English poet William Blake. It is a very modern poem, because it unites the holiness of the Holy Thursday to the sacrality of the poor people. The poem speaks about English people, but it can be applied to our Country and parishes too. During the most solemn liturgi es we cannot forget the most poor people … here you can read a nice comment.