The smell of the costly nard infuses the air
The only thing thought of is the waste of
Money, not the condition of the woman,
Not the live displayed, not the devotion
In saving and scraping to produce such
A gift, she is lost, buried under what is
Right or wrong, then he speaks asking
For her thoughtfulness not to be forgotten
Forgiveness comes in tears at the feet
While everyone else stands outraged
Forgetting the beauty of love and
Kindness, such an act freely given