A Pilgrimage of the mind
as we set forth on her land,
she receives us, as travellers
upon this forgotten land.
We feel the sands of time
press down, under our feet,
as we seek out ruined temples
to mingle with our mind.
Hundreds of years have passed
many a knight sought fame,
as they came in their thousand’s
the sands ran red; with their blood.
Jerusalem; God’s holy city
where Jesus of Nazareth
was crucified upon the cross.
Pilgrims undertook pilgrimages
across dangerous lands,
to pay tribute, to their saviour.
Thousands ventured forth
thousands, died on route
buried, in the Holy Land.
Will anyone remember the fallen
lost in the sands of the east,
lost… but never forgotten.
Pope Urban II
Pope Uban made a plea
calling upon Europe’s knights,
arm yourself, set Jerusalem free
as thousand’s answered, the call to arms.
Thousands came out to fight
these warriors for god,
knowing, if they fall in battle
their sins will be forgiven.
Europe’s forces, God’s warriors
took on the might of the east,
these warriors of the desserts
were caught off guard…
First crusade, saw Christian victories
but these were short lived,
as city by city were lost
crusade’s over; Europe’s knights retreated.
We will always remember
a Pope’s call to arms,
thousand’s of Europe’s warriors
lie, in the sands of the Holy Land.
To have perfect joy in paradise
I must leave the land I love so much,
where she lives whom I thank every day.
Her body is noble and spirited, her face fresh and lovely;
and my true heart surrenders to her.
But my body must take its leave of her;
I am departing for the place where God suffered death
to ransom us on a Friday.
Sweet love, I have great sorrow in my heart
now that at last I must leave you,
with whom I have found so much good, such tenderness,
joy and gaiety to charm me.
But fortune by her power has made me
exchange my joy for the sadness and sorrow
I will feel for you many nights and many days,
thus I will go to serve my creator.
No ore than a child can endure hunger
and no one can chastise him for crying because of it
do I believe that I can stay away
from you, whom I used to kiss and embrace,
nor have I in me such power of abstinence.
A hundred times a night shall I recall your beauty:
it gave me such pleasure to hold your body!
When I no longer have it I shall desire of desire.
Good Lord God, if I for you
leave the country where she is that I love so,
grant us in heaven everlasting joy,
my love and me, through your mercy
and grant her the strength to love me,
so that she will not forget me in my long absence,
for I love her more than anything in the world
and I feel so sad about her that my heart is breaking.
Translation in “The Crusades: Documents of
Medieval History” (Edward Arnold 1981)