8,7,8,7,7,7,7,7
Zion klagt mit Angst und Schmerzen
Johann Heermann
trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869
Zion mourns in fear and anguish,
Zion, city of our God:
|Ah,| she saith, |how sore I languish,
Bowed beneath how hard a load;
God hath sure forsook me quite,
And forgot my evil plight;| --
Nay, he chose thee, and thou art
Safely borne within His heart.
|Once,| she mourns, |He promised plainly
That His help should aye be near,
Yet I now must seek Him vainly
In my days of woe and fear.
Will he then for evermore
Keep His anger, and no more
Look with pity on the poor,
And behold what they endure?|
|Zion, surely I have loved thee,|
Thus to her the Highest saith,
True, that many woes have proved thee,
And thy soul is sad to death,
Yet now cast thy griefs behind;
Where wilt thou a mother find
For her babe will not provide,
Or can hate it, though she chide?
|Nay, and couldst thou find a mother
Who forgot her infant's claim,
Or whose wrath her love could smother,
Yet would I be still the same;
For my truth is pledged to thee,
Zion, thou art dear to me,
Thou within my heart art set,
And I never can forget.
|Let not Satan make thee craven,
He can fright but cannot harm,
On My hands thy name is graven,
And thy shield is still My arm.
How then could it other be
Than that I must think of thee,
And must build again thy walls,
And be true whate'er befalls?
|Thou before my eyes art ever,
In my bosom thou art laid
As a nursing child, and never
Shalt thou lack My timely aid.
Thee and Me no time nor stress,
War, nor danger, nor distress,
No, nor Satan's self can part, --
Only be thou strong of heart.|