Gustaf Munch-Petersen: Towards Jerusalem
prince of the sun’s sternness
plays dead –
around the stretcher stand
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
your gaze –