Thursday 14 November 2013

Another B.S. Ingemann poem

now all god’s birds from their sleep awake

Now all God’s birds from their sleep awake,
They fly from their nests and start singing;
They praise the Lord God, every effort they make
To thank him for life and for light with their trills sweetly ringing.

On church roof chirrups the swallow gay,
Round houses close by cheeps the sparrow;
They call out: Good morning! they call out Good day!
They call out: God’s peace! God be praised! And shoot off like an arrow.

The small bird’s song to Our Lord is plain;
He knows every soul he’s created;
The praises of poor folk he does not disdain;
He sees what his creatures though tongueless would dearly have stated.

Our God most dear, you see us all too!
You hear in your heaven our voices;
When birds from their nests every day fly anew,
You hear infant praises as part of your throng that rejoices.


This poem has been taken from Ingemann's 'Morgen- og Aftensange'. For other poems from this collection of poems, set to music by Weyse, see the index. 

No comments: