Jürgen Skupniewski-Fernandez
This year
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
v
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
This year everything is different
The stars hang melancholy in the sky
The moon is silent, bent to crescent
And the earth writhes at her wounds
Where is a refuge for peace?
Before our eyes hangs a veil
Through which the light lost its power.
These are the shadows of black angels
That rise from cold hearts
Oh, star of the south
Oh, heaven's joys
This year you have become such a strange thing to me.
Father, let your stars fall into our laps
Let our sweet blood flow through our dreams
Which way shall we turn
When the moon sends its broken light
Give us your faith
That pain may turn from us
Silence is the night, your holy power
But your children are dying
Their hearts rest tiredly sweet
Beneath your feet.
Chill lies the forest
When the waves of war
Like arms of polyps engulf freedom
In the fire glow the dead are multiplying
This year has become so strange to me
So much God once streamed through that night
But hope suffocates in the roar
And longing became a snake.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Jürgen Skupniewski-Fernandez.
Published on e-Stories.org on 12/20/2022.
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Book by Jürgen Skupniewski-Fernandez:
Emotionale Welten
von Jürgen Skupniewski-Fernandez
In den Gedichten hat der Autor das lyrische "Ich" durch ein vorwiegendes lyrisches "Du" bzw. "Wir" ersetzt, was eine kollektive Nähe zum Geschehenen hervorruft.
Die sehr eindrücklichen Beschreibungen leben von den vielen Metaphern und Vergleichen.
Eine klare und leicht verständliche Sprache sowie wohlgeformte Reime ermöglichen dem Leser einen guten Zugang zu den Gedichten.
Etwas für Lyrik-Liebhaber und jene, die gerne über das Leben philosophieren.
Eine kleine poetische Reise, die den Leser zum Verweilen und zum Nachdenken über den Sinn des Lebens einlädt.
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