the indolent
Nettle-leaved Bellflower (Campanula trachelium). Swindon, 29th March 2020. |
S L O T H
PROSECUTION
first to you who think yourselves innocent
you the indolent
a heavy burden you bind to yourselves
heavier than the worst crimes heavier than the earth can bear
on you the guilt of all the evil that never was stopped
on you the guilt of all the good that never was done
a heavy burden that because of you
the world goes down
CHORUS
it's by our own heart we are forsaken
and below its steep wall is our camp in the night
we are those who from life are condemned to living death
thirsting in torpor for the springs' water
our arms we clasp hard round our knees
tense with strain not with rest
above the wall coping sway the fresh trees
under their roots we hear the springs trickle
there our life is there our soul is
you who come to punish how will you free us
if you know the way in then all will be well
but take us from the springs the desert storm crushes us
bring no crocks to these hot dry mouths
never shall we lift our hands to business
never till we drink from the innermost sources
by the walls of our hearts we wait to be transformed
SOLO
You call, within me echoes
feebly a reply;
but deep in all my dales
is the repugnance, still.
It's something: one only
of all my people,
willing to serve you, o caller,
as your champion and advocate.
But see, I'm scared of violence
in the soul's world
and especially the strong's stupidity,
those who win by the sword.
Let my unnumbered slowly
be healed into one,
thus maybe one day our drop of blood
can answer your call!
How invincible would he be
in simple faith,
who succeeded in knitting together as one
in growing peace.
How powerless from his living skin
the day's dust would fall away.
How powerful his silent gliding
forth from the hurlyburly.
CHORALE
All that is scattered and split apart
longs to be made whole
and yet prays in faithfulness.
You live among us.
Yes, though our doubt has held us bound
you too, Lord, were concealed within.
PROSECUTION
first to you who think yourselves innocent
you the indolent
a heavy burden you bind to yourselves
heavier than the worst crimes heavier than the earth can bear
on you the guilt of all the evil that never was stopped
on you the guilt of all the good that never was done
a heavy burden that because of you
the world goes down
Common Gromwell (Lithospermum officinale). Swindon, 29th March 2020. |
CHORUS
it's by our own heart we are forsaken
and below its steep wall is our camp in the night
we are those who from life are condemned to living death
thirsting in torpor for the springs' water
our arms we clasp hard round our knees
tense with strain not with rest
above the wall coping sway the fresh trees
under their roots we hear the springs trickle
there our life is there our soul is
you who come to punish how will you free us
if you know the way in then all will be well
but take us from the springs the desert storm crushes us
bring no crocks to these hot dry mouths
never shall we lift our hands to business
never till we drink from the innermost sources
by the walls of our hearts we wait to be transformed
Green Hound's-tongue (Cynoglossum germanicum). Swindon, 29th March 2020. |
SOLO
You call, within me echoes
feebly a reply;
but deep in all my dales
is the repugnance, still.
It's something: one only
of all my people,
willing to serve you, o caller,
as your champion and advocate.
But see, I'm scared of violence
in the soul's world
and especially the strong's stupidity,
those who win by the sword.
Let my unnumbered slowly
be healed into one,
thus maybe one day our drop of blood
can answer your call!
How invincible would he be
in simple faith,
who succeeded in knitting together as one
in growing peace.
How powerless from his living skin
the day's dust would fall away.
How powerful his silent gliding
forth from the hurlyburly.
Pignut (Conopodium majus). Swindon, 31st March 2020. |
CHORALE
All that is scattered and split apart
longs to be made whole
and yet prays in faithfulness.
You live among us.
Yes, though our doubt has held us bound
you too, Lord, were concealed within.
Seedlings of Green Hound's-tongue (Cynoglossum germanicum). Swindon, 5th April 2020. |
A freely rendered extract from Karin Boye's uncompleted cantata The Seven Deadly Sins (De sju dödssynderna), posthumously published in 1941 in the collection of the same name. Probably relevant is the background of an imminent world war, as well as the author's own tormented struggle for integrity.
Labels: Karin Boye, Specimens of the literature of Sweden, Swindon
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