It is a watchword, and here
It is the staff of song
That beckons downwards,
For nothing is ordinary.
It awakens the dead, still
In bondage but not yet corrupt.
And many are waiting whose eyes are
Still too shy to look at the light directly.
They won’t flourish in the sharp
Light, as if a bridle of gold
Held back their courage.
But when quiet radiance falls
From the holy scripture,
With the world forgotten and their eyes
Wide open, then they may enjoy that grace,
And study it in stillness.
And if the gods love me,
As I now believe,
Then how much more
Do they love yourself.
For I know that the will
Of the eternal Father
Concerns you greatly.
Under a thundering sky his will is silent.
And there is one who stands
Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives.
And the heroes, all his sons have come,
Explaining the holy scriptures concerning him,
And the lightning and earth’s deeds till now,
It is a race that that can’t be stopped.
But he is there too, conscious of his own works
From the very beginning.
Continues German text Home All poems
Many might be blinded at the coming of Christ, but they can grow accustomed to the light through scriptural study. The Earl of Homburg, for whom the poem is written, was known as a Bible student and is directly addressed at the beginning of the second strophe on this page.
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