“Shall
I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou
art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough
winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And
summer’s lease has all too short a date . . .
But
thy eternal summer shall not fade . . .
Nor
shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade . . .”
William Shakespeare
Summer, the season of joy and pleasant climes, is ushered in
with one last fiery blast from the bluster and rain of March and April. May Eve, April 30, is the night when witches
the world over commune to celebrate the sacred marriage, the union of the Lord
and Lady, the Sun and Moon.
German witches celebrated the night
in honor of the goddess Walpurga - their May Queen – with wild festivities on
the Brocken, the highest peak of Germany’s Harz Mountains. Since Saxon times, the region had a
supernatural reputation; the gods were believed to manifest there on May
Eve. With the advent of the Christian
faith, the pagan celebration that had come to be known as Walpurgisnacht was
truncated; the Church canonized the German goddess, creating her St. Walpurga,
and moved her feast to February to discourage the orgiastic rituals that
associated her with May. But this did
little to discourage her followers, who continued to celebrate Walpurgisnacht,
though in a decidedly less overt manner.
“If you love me, come discretely down to meet me, under the greenwood
tree.”
(Traditional
rhyme.)
The festivities of Walpurgisnacht give way to the light of
the fires of Beltane, May 1st, the first day of summer in the Old
Style calendars. Fire played a prominent
role in Beltane celebrations; before the great bonfires were lit on the Celtic
hills, the hearth-fire of every home was extinguished. Bearing faggots and torches from the great
fires, folk would rekindle their hearths, reclaiming them from the darkness and
recognizing the growing light of the summer sun.
It was
common to choose a King and Queen to reign over the celebrations of May Day,
but theirs was no tender love. Indeed,
in May, “the lusty month of May,” romantic love, trysts, and sexual desire
blossomed feverishly alongside Nature’s bountiful blooms. May’s association with sensuality and
pleasure caused many minstrels to celebrate it as the month to “make much joy”
– and the lush allure of greenery made a natural lover’s bower. On May Eve, men and women, noble and common
alike, would venture into the greenwood to go “a-Maying,” and would spend the
night out, making love in woods and fields.
“I have heard it
credibly reported . . . that of fortie, threescore, or a hundred maides going
into the woods over night, there have scaresly the third part of them returned
home againe undefiled.”
“The
Anatomie of Abuses,” Philip Stubbes, 1583.
The May Pole
No image comes more readily to mind when one thinks of May
than that of people dancing joyfully around a flowered and beribboned May Pole.
In addition
to gathering flowers from the woods, it was also the custom to bring back a
young tree. Stripped of its branches, it
would be set up in the midst of the village and decorated with flowers and
long, flowing ribbons.
The May
Pole was a powerful fertility symbol, representing the Sun God in the guise of
Green Man, and embodying the spirit of growth and the promise of seed. Its placement in the earth – the phallus of
the god into the mother’s womb – continued the highly-sexual imagery of May
celebrations. Groups of dancers would
circle the pole “sunwise” (or deosil), binding it about with the long ribbons,
and “calling up the power” to strengthen it with dancing, singing, and
drumming.
Old-style
May Day celebrations included the march of a white-clad virgin, representing
day and the bloom of summer (another incarnation of the goddess queen),
accompanied by another female clad entirely in black, representing night and
the dearth of winter. Fairs, mummer’s
plays, milk and the rejuvenating waters of the new season were all celebrated
in lore and superstition at this time of year.
And fire, always fire, as the power of the sun increased and the wheel
of the year turned toward the solstice of June.
Celebrating Saint Sara la Kali (May 25th)
In May, the Roma (Gypsies) everywhere, but particularly in
Europe, celebrate their patron saint, Sara la Kali (or “Sara the Black”) with
exceptional and genuine devotion, making pilgrimages to the saint’s famous
French shrine.
Although never canonized, Sara has
been venerated by the Roma at least since medieval times as the Gypsy woman who
drew the three “Marys of the Sea” (Saintes Maries de la Mer, thought to be Mary
the sister of Lazarus, Mary the mother of St. James and St. John, and Mary
Magdalene) to safety from the waves after they had fled Palestine in the wake
of Christ’s crucifixion. She is called
“la Kali” because legend speaks of her origins on the coast of Egypt, where her
skin was bronzed by the sun.
Each May, on her feast day, the
statue of the saint is carried from its cave-like shrine in a great procession
and held aloft to the gathering of pious Roma pilgrims. The statue is then carried to the spot on the
French shore where the Roma believe the legendary meeting with the Three Marys
took place. The statue is gingerly
placed in the crashing surf where it is anointed and blessings are bestowed
upon it before it is safely returned to its home. The solemnities are followed by great fanfare
and celebrations among the Roma, often lasting for days.
For generations only the Roma were
allowed to enter the shrine of St. Sara, making her the most personal of
intercessors for a people generally bereft of advocates. Recently, however, the Roma-only rules were
suspended and Gadje have been allowed access to the enclave of the Black Saint
of the Gypsies.
All material Copyright (c) 2011-2015 by Alyne Pustanio and Creole Moon Publications.
Reproduction or dissemination in whole or in part without the expressed written consent of the Author and/or the Publisher is strictly prohibited by law.
