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قراءة كتاب The Angel of Death
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 3
Bishop, that the world shall perish on Thursday?" Wallin had always the same answer: "Please call again on Friday, and I will let you know." The questioner withdrew consoled.
[D] Wallin not only revised completely the old hymn-book of the church, but composed a very large number of the divinely beautiful and universally celebrated songs, of which the present Swedish hymn-book is composed.
[E] The literal translation of the last two lines (impossible to retain while maintaining the original meter) is:
Thou first voice in the Literary Circle!
Thou poet as few! Thou orator as none!
Thou poet as few! Thou orator as none!
ANGEL OF DEATH.
Ye children, Adam's, of earth begotten,
Who unto earth shall again return!
You are my own: Be it not forgotten,
I am the penalty sin did earn!...
O man, time's guest!
With my grasp, I reach thee,
From east to west,
And by voices, teach thee
With scripture's word in the Master's name,
From air and water and earth and flame.
Who unto earth shall again return!
You are my own: Be it not forgotten,
I am the penalty sin did earn!...
O man, time's guest!
With my grasp, I reach thee,
From east to west,
And by voices, teach thee
With scripture's word in the Master's name,
From air and water and earth and flame.
You build and dwell like the sparrows, building,
In sunny summer, their fragile nest:
Securely feeling, in shady shielding,
They sing so joyful in happy rest;
But sudden gust
Of the tempest shatters
The tiny crust
Of their nest in tatters—
The merry song, heard so short before,
With grief is silenced forevermore.
In sunny summer, their fragile nest:
Securely feeling, in shady shielding,
They sing so joyful in happy rest;
But sudden gust
Of the tempest shatters
The tiny crust
Of their nest in tatters—
The merry song, heard so short before,
With grief is silenced forevermore.
Like pigeons, cooing in anxious calling,
You sigh for morn, with to-day not through,
When, unbethought, like a trap-door falling,
The earth unlocketh itself for you—
You disappear
Where no light is nearing—
Soon mem'ry dear
Is no more endearing—
And new-lit moon, from its silvered sky,
Again, sees others arrive and fly.
You sigh for morn, with to-day not through,
When, unbethought, like a trap-door falling,
The earth unlocketh itself for you—
You disappear
Where no light is nearing—
Soon mem'ry dear
Is no more endearing—
And new-lit moon, from its silvered sky,
Again, sees others arrive and fly.
In circling dances so lightly swinging
You follow wildly amusement's thread,
With myrtle blooming and music ringing ...
But solemn I on the threshold tread:—
The dance is checked
And the clang is wailing,
The wreath is wrecked
And the bride is paling:
The end of splendor and joy and might
Is only sorrow and tears and blight.
You follow wildly amusement's thread,
With myrtle blooming and music ringing ...
But solemn I on the threshold tread:—
The dance is checked
And the clang is wailing,
The wreath is wrecked
And the bride is paling:
The end of splendor and joy and might
Is only sorrow and tears and blight.
I am the mighty, who has the power,
Till yet a mightier shall appear.
In deepest pit, on the highest tower,
My chilling spirit is ever near:
Those plagues of night
And of desolation,
Whose breath of blight
May annul a nation,
They slay the victims, which I select,
Whom shield and armor can not protect.
Till yet a mightier shall appear.
In deepest pit, on the highest tower,
My chilling spirit is ever near:
Those plagues of night
And of desolation,
Whose breath of blight
May annul a nation,
They slay the victims, which I select,
Whom shield and armor can not protect.
I wrap the wing round the polar tempest
And calm the waves ere they reach the strand.
I crush the schemes of dynastic conquest,
And wrench the club from the tyrant's hand.
I eras chase,
Like the hour just passing;
And race on race,
With their works amassing,
Like heaving waves, in my footsteps flow,
Till, last, no ripples their murmur show.
And calm the waves ere they reach the strand.
I crush the schemes of dynastic conquest,
And wrench the club from the tyrant's hand.
I eras chase,
Like the hour just passing;
And race on race,
With their works amassing,
Like heaving waves, in my footsteps flow,
Till, last, no ripples their murmur show.
'Gainst me in vain are your wit and letters,
'Gainst me nor weapons nor arts prevail.
I freedom give to the slave in fetters,—
His ruler's will I in irons nail.
I lead the battle—
And armies tumble,
Like slaughtered cattle,
While cannons rumble,
And never rise from their sudden fall
Until alarmed by the judgment-call.
'Gainst me nor weapons nor arts prevail.
I freedom give to the slave in fetters,—
His ruler's will I in irons nail.
I lead the battle—
And armies tumble,
Like slaughtered cattle,
While cannons rumble,
And never rise from their sudden fall
Until alarmed by the judgment-call.
I wave my hand—and, with whirlwinds' sweeping
All life on earth to that place doth fly,
Where not a sound to the ear is creeping,
Where not a tongue moves to make reply.
My foot meanders—
And kings and heroes,
And Alexanders,
And wicked Neros,
And princes, lofty in might and lust,
Are all transformed to—a handful dust.
All life on earth to that place doth fly,
Where not a sound to the ear is creeping,
Where not a tongue moves to make reply.
My foot meanders—
And kings and heroes,
And Alexanders,
And wicked Neros,
And princes, lofty in might and lust,
Are all transformed to—a handful dust.
In lowly earth, upon which they bother
And beg and wrangle for rank and gift,
I mix the races among each other,
I lay the centuries, drift on drift.
Forlorn and friendless
Exists no pleasure;
In shadows endless
No pomp, or treasure.
Their owners left them when on came night—
Now others claim them, with lawful right.
And beg and wrangle for rank and gift,
I mix the races among each other,
I lay the centuries, drift on drift.
Forlorn and friendless
Exists no pleasure;
In shadows endless
No pomp, or treasure.
Their owners left them when on came night—
Now others claim them, with lawful right.