From theatre play Lucifer by Joost van den Vondel, translated:
Salvator who will crush the serpent's biting head,
for guilt of mankind that from seduced Adam spread
bring God's redemption in due time and then unlock
to Eva promised greater Eden for your flock
We count the ages and the years, yeah day and hour
till your fine grace appears and Nature shall reflower
As then the bodies and the souls in your house dwell
and stand before the throne from where those angels fell
(NO MELODY YET)
translated: poem by Joost van den Vondel
Oh long night lovelier than day time
how can king Herod stand the bright shine
that from high heaven spreads the Word
which is adored as fount of pleasure;
his pride discards the divine measure
though clearly ear and eye report
The Innocent he tries to ambush
by murdring infants in an armed push
and turns on craddles scream and weep
at Bethlehem and down the hill side
arousing Rachel's spirit off hide
that starts bewildered leap and creep
On west- or eastward track and random
who 's to console her sad abandon
now that her mothercare 's denied
now that she sees a stream of blood shed
upon her children hardly born yet
and red so many sables dyed
Where milk one noticed on the small tips
of those forlorn and frozen pale lips
was drunk awhile from mother's breast;
where tears so little one saw twinkle
like droplets dawn on cheeks that pinkle
there dirt and blood she sees ameshed
The eyebrow covers tiny eyelids
now closed on no more smiling eye pits
which rayed their warmth into the heart
like stars above in vivid splendor
creating face as heavens mirror
before a mist forced them to part
What could retain these evil powers
that step upon unblossommed flowers
slain before summer seazon came
in which their fresh delighting odour
should waken souls, make visions broader;
at morning drinking dawn's wet fame
Thus rapes the ax the silent greenies
thus hits the wind outrageous weak trees
when tempest shakes and tears the wood
when blind state reason gets to bad lust
wildly goes round and mad in mistrust;
why chosen hate and dwindle good?
Sad Rachel stop your wandering quiver
your sprouts 'll be honoured to deliver
fast grown fruit of the martyr kind
that from the earth to God is pointing
He 'll turn the blood to graceful ointing
leaving all cruelty behind
(for melody see Liedboek der kerken: O kerstnacht schoner dan de dagen)
Salvator who will crush the serpent's biting head,
for guilt of mankind that from seduced Adam spread
bring God's redemption in due time and then unlock
to Eva promised greater Eden for your flock
We count the ages and the years, yeah day and hour
till your fine grace appears and Nature shall reflower
As then the bodies and the souls in your house dwell
and stand before the throne from where those angels fell
(NO MELODY YET)
translated: poem by Joost van den Vondel
Oh long night lovelier than day time
how can king Herod stand the bright shine
that from high heaven spreads the Word
which is adored as fount of pleasure;
his pride discards the divine measure
though clearly ear and eye report
The Innocent he tries to ambush
by murdring infants in an armed push
and turns on craddles scream and weep
at Bethlehem and down the hill side
arousing Rachel's spirit off hide
that starts bewildered leap and creep
On west- or eastward track and random
who 's to console her sad abandon
now that her mothercare 's denied
now that she sees a stream of blood shed
upon her children hardly born yet
and red so many sables dyed
Where milk one noticed on the small tips
of those forlorn and frozen pale lips
was drunk awhile from mother's breast;
where tears so little one saw twinkle
like droplets dawn on cheeks that pinkle
there dirt and blood she sees ameshed
The eyebrow covers tiny eyelids
now closed on no more smiling eye pits
which rayed their warmth into the heart
like stars above in vivid splendor
creating face as heavens mirror
before a mist forced them to part
What could retain these evil powers
that step upon unblossommed flowers
slain before summer seazon came
in which their fresh delighting odour
should waken souls, make visions broader;
at morning drinking dawn's wet fame
Thus rapes the ax the silent greenies
thus hits the wind outrageous weak trees
when tempest shakes and tears the wood
when blind state reason gets to bad lust
wildly goes round and mad in mistrust;
why chosen hate and dwindle good?
Sad Rachel stop your wandering quiver
your sprouts 'll be honoured to deliver
fast grown fruit of the martyr kind
that from the earth to God is pointing
He 'll turn the blood to graceful ointing
leaving all cruelty behind
(for melody see Liedboek der kerken: O kerstnacht schoner dan de dagen)
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