Munch-Petersen, Gustaf rejected


sadness is
in my veins,
anger has filled my eyes,
my lips are dry with ashes -

my goodwill has turned to hatred,
my hope is an unworthy slave,
but my sight is clean as a spear,
and I see,
and I know,
o, I know,
the people of mine has refused
my service -!
the people of mine
is happy -
but its prayers
are humble -
the world won't give
my people more money -!
the women can't give
the men no more pride -!
my people is happy -,
but my people is praying -

my people is licking its own holy corpse,
is biting in worship and hopeful resentment
the sacred parts -,
my countrymen don't like their devoted servant,
they cry -:
who are you,
to profane our candid devotion,
who are you,
to call down the anger
of god 'pon the heads of your worshipping people -!

- my lips are dry with ashes -
I know why -