Gustaf Munch-Petersen: Towards Jerusalem


prince of the sun’s sternness

plays dead –

around the stretcher stand

we –

mumbles struck by lightning:

here rests the blessedness of the earth –

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rest – rest – our prince!


know, that you only sleep –,

eternal drunk plays sober –

sleep you, sleep our saviour!

the sternness of the sun on your brow

the blessedness of the earth in your hand

eternally outstretched –


o come, the courage of the Right,

that we must risk the adoration –!

on our knees with drawn swords

we await

your gaze –