when the rose blooms, and when it is still-embudded.
Hear my son Absalom my son
would that I had died for you—my son, my daughter
and let my cry—these tears—come unto you.
For here I am, yet not I, an olding man,
seeing from Nebo the promised land
and not yet allowed to enter.
And yet, ever entering and leaving
and entering again into your promised land.
Now, my Master, let your servant depart in peace,
in Friede, in Friede fahren, as Schütz sings,
my feet, one here, one there,
legs full-stretching out between
the hither and the farther shore
When birth is death and death is birth,
when birth is brith, and death is liberation
here not here in this twilight time
bonding creature to unbounded creator
now and into the age of ages
Ausculta, fellow servant, and depart in peace,
into the light that has filled your darkened mind--
into the peace you have tasted this day--
a light to enlighten the Gentiles
and peace upon your people, Israel.