And here and there a cross on a barren hill;
In the red forest a herd is disappearing.
The cloud meanders over the pond's mirror;
The calm gesture of the peasant is at rest.
Very softly evening's blue wing touches.
A roof of parched straw, the black earth.
Soon stars will nest in the brows of the tired;
Georg Trakl Autumn of the Lonely One
and in that Germanic mood I was led back to 1978 and the Christmas drama:
Night and silence.
Only the steps and cries of the guards.
Do you hear how in the silent house
It quakes, cracks, roars
When hundreds kindle the stirred-up flame of their hearts?
Their choir is silent,
But my ear is open wide:
‘We the old, the young,
The sons of all tongues,
We the strong, the weak,
The sleepers, the wakeful,
We the poor, the rich,
Alike in misfortune,
The good, the bad,
Whatever we have been,
We men of many scars,
We the witnesses of those who died,
We the defiant, we the despondent,
The innocent, and the much accused,
Deeply tormented by long isolation,
Brother, we are searching, we are calling you!
Brother, do you hear me?’
Whether one day turns into another,
One that could have nothing new, nothing better
Than to end quickly like this one?
I want to see the turning of the times,
When luminous signs stand in the night sky,
And over the peoples new bells
Ring and ring.
I am waiting for that midnight
In whose fearfully streaming brilliance
The evil perish for anguish
And the good overcome with joy.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “Night Voices in Tegel” (1944)
Thank you Tim