springtime

Gustaf Munch-Petersen: Towards Jerusalem

the queen of the

long realm of the

yellow star

had lovers, who

cried in pale

dry nights –

She had set them

in the cage of the

hunting love, without

giving them

food – and they burned

after the

golden pan, which they

ever ever

saw –|

and the queen, the queen?

?   ?   ?

every morning She stood

deep in her

sparkling hall of her

rustling loneliness and

waited to see all

all her lovers

come in her –

for the lovely

weight of her pointy

crown She had wholly

forgotten, that all

her lovers

were burnt to

less than money’s worth,

gone, where She didn’t

dare open –

 

- - -

 

in springtime, when

the prince of

the mighty realm

of the blue moon came

to the queen

of the golden star,

she whispered lovely:

I have forgotten the door

to the great

longing –

but when they were

alone, |

the slow

ruler-lover-eye of the prince

saw, that

a coral red

snake had grown

long and wild

on the golden hip of the queen

and with Her

pointy crown

around its neck –

the queen’s clothes laughed –

the queen had

not a tear, and bade

the prince with a smile

the suit of her chamber maid –

the queen had

not a tear, and

the prince thought of his

blue sun and

killed the queen,

gave food to Her lovers,

and burnt off

all the long realm

of the golden star –

and through the closed

door to the queen’s

little longing, there

slid the coral red snake –

and there it sleeps,

with nothing but scales,

as the queen’s

only dream –

and over the burnt |

realm the moon arose

hot and blue like

the breath

of love and God –

springtime – springtime –