Er ist in Bethlehem geboren
Friedrich Rückert
trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869
In Bethlehem the Lord was born
Whose birth has brought us life and light,
On Calvary that death of scorn
He died, that broke Death's cruel might:
I wandered from a western strand
And sought through many an eastern land,
Yet found I greater nought than ye,
O Bethlehem and Calvary!
Ye wonders of the ancient world,
How hath your pomp been swept away,
And earthly strength to ruin hurled
By power that knows not of decay!
I saw them scattered far and wide,
The ruined heaps on every side;
But lowly glory still I see
Round Bethlehem and Calvary.
Ye Pyramids are but a tomb
Wherein did toiling mortals build
Death's utter darkness; 'tis his gloom,
Not peace, wherewith your depths are filled.
Ye Sphinxes, to the world of old
Could Life's enigma ne'er unfold;
'Tis solved for ages yet to be
In Bethlehem and Calvary!
O Syria's earthly Paradise,
Fair Schiraz' gardens of the rose,
Ye palmy plains 'neath Indian skies,
Ye shores where soft the spice-wind blows,
Death stalks through all that looks so fair,
I trace his shadow everywhere;
Look up, and Life's true Fountain see
In Bethlehem and Calvary!
Thou Kaaba, black desert-stone,
Against which half the world to-day
Still stumbles, strive to keep thy throne
Lit by Thy Crescent's pallid ray;
The moon before the sun must pale,
That brighter Sign shall yet prevail,
Of Him whose cry of victory
Is Bethlehem and Calvary!
O Thou, who didst not once disdain
The childish form, the Manger poor;
Who once to take from us our pain
All pain didst on the Cross endure;
Pride to Thy Manger cannot bend,
Thy Cross doth haughty minds offend,
But lowly hearts draw close to Thee
In Bethlehem and Calvary!
The Kings approach, to worship there
The Paschal Lamb, the Shepherd race;
And thitherwards the nations fare
As pilgrims to the Holy Place;
The storm of warfare on them breaks,
The World but not the Cross it shakes,
When East and West in strife ye see
For Bethlehem and Calvary.
O not like those, with weaponed hand,
But with the Spirit let us go
To conquer back the Holy Land,
As Christ is conquering still below;
Let beams of light on ev'ry side
Speed as Apostles far and wide,
Till all the Earth draws light from thee,
O Bethlehem, O Calvary!
With pilgrim hat and staff I went
Afar through Orient lands to roam,
My years of pilgrimage are spent,
And this the word I bring you home;
The pilgrim's staff ye need not crave
To seek God's Cradle or His Grave,
But seek within you, there shall be
His Bethlehem and Calvary!
O Heart, what helps it to adore
His Cradle where the sunrise glows?
Or what avail to kneel before
The Grave whence long ago He rose?
That He should find in thee a birth,
That thou shouldst seek to die to earth
And live to Him; -- this, this must be
Thy Bethlehem and Calvary!