The Thief in the Summer Days


The Thief in the Summer Days

— Jezreel Madsa


Lo, far so as laughter and mirth is found
The sons of men in sheer ignorance feast!
By surprise thou at summer days abound
Trembles are the grounds of the greater and least!

Visit me not in my youth Oh gentle thief!
Keep the jars of my head empty and lull
For thy menace wipes my skin like handkerchief
Thy presence blaring may it be yet dull

To where go I should, or flee if I would?
Behold, certain is thy shuddering advent
In Hades dwelt thou in plain solitude
Past shalt the days be when thou art silent

Thou must to flee, Soul, seek death by your own
Hide behind the Rock—in Him and him alone

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