Skrevet af Jørn Nielsen
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Lørdag, 09. januar 2010 11:53 |
The blackbird is my special friend Each winter not the least, I with it precious moments spend Like coming to a feast.
For on its table I prepare Delicious, oily food, Though icy is the wind and air And poor its livelihood.
The blackbirds freeze, but here they throng They bravely seem to say, “Next spring you´ll hear that heartfelt song That now seems far away!”
Their singing is just that foretaste Of Heaven´s harps of praise, That song God in my heart has placed To magnify His grace.
And as the shadows of the death My soul may strangely cloud, I shall my gospel´s “Shibboleth” With all the birds sing loud!
Jan.9, 2010
-jn-
“The time of singing has come!” (Song of Songs 2:12)
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