The Four Sons
Four sons only says the Law
Spring from all the seed we sow;
Wise or wicked, foolish, dumb
Suffice to name whatever son.
Wise one, ask that I may still
Recite what asking you know well.
Only what is known is learned;
Bow, be bored and yield the turn.
Wicked, cry in scorn: “Why yet
Remember to remember death!”
Out of bondage when I pass
You shall be the slave of was.
Foolish, slobber as you seek
To hear what you cannot repeat.
The Law demands that I expend
My breath though no one understand.
Dumb innocence, you plead the best
For vain expenditure of breath:
To give the gift without a use,
Each year just once to say the truth.
Four sons only says the Law
Spring from all the seed we sow;
Wise and wicked, foolish, dumb
Suffice to name my father’s son.
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The Four Questions
Why is this night different from others,
The bread broken poor bread,
The lines spoken cribbed from dead
Fathers, the wine drunk four times, mothers
Permitting? Why is this night different,
Yeastless, only ceaseless prayers
Rising—greens dipped twice in tears,
Timeless? Why are the long absent present?
Why do we go out of Egypt?
Why are we forever there?
Why is it God himself who goads us?
Why do I do not care?
Why is this night different, why leaning
Are old men different, kings
Of crumbs and wine-soaked napkins,
Singing? What do they think they are
meaning,
Touching the egg, brown bone, the bitter
Herbs, howling through open doors
The hopeless, unheard curse?
No prophet enters, only dying winter. . . .
Why do we go out of Egypt?
Why are we forever there?
Why is it God himself who goads us?
Why do I ask who do not care?
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The Four Cups
Two cups we drink before our meat
to make us mad enough to greet
the miracle each spring achieves
but masks in modesty with leaves
two times we touch our lips to wine
before we open them to dine.
Two cups we drink before we sing
the lovesong of the foolish king
whose foolishness is counted wise
two cups to wet the throat for praise
two times and two the throat is wet
before we put the kids to bed.
By this we know and show no more
than two and two make four make four.
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The Four Fathers
For each son there is a father:
The “as-if,” “yes-but” or “rather”
From which he began; Abraham,
Who lied that his soul might live,
Will do (while Jews last) for “as-if.”
For “rather” bland Isaac’s the man,
God’s chosen who passed to the ram.
“Yes-but” is Jacob, the wrestler,
Who wore for election’s sake fur
Of his brother, mocking the beast
He could not best in the womb.
Joseph is silence, buried, dumb;
He brought us to Egypt, to feast
After famine, less father than son.
God, why did we come!
God, why did we come!
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