Kirken i Gyngen
Ny vin fra gamle stokke.
Se, nu stiger solen op
Så tror jeg, salmen faldt plads med ændring af tredie og nyt fjerde vers:
Se, nu stiger solen op,
aldrene af dage,
ung endnu i sjæl og krop,
aldrig uden mage.
Jorden åbner glad sin favn,
lader æbler falde
af hvert underfulde navn,
de sig lader kalde.
Kirkeklokken ringer med,
yngre dog end solen,
med sin klang af kærlighed
over nådestolen.
Se, nu skuer solen ud
over alle tage,
bringer et velsignet bud
over alle dage.
Det kritiske punkt var ordet “prækestolen”, som jeg skrev, fordi jeg mente “nådestolen” ville være for vidtløftigt og uforståeligt. Men “prækestolen” bragte en ironisk distance ind, som førte væk fra anslaget. Ries melodi bragte mig tilbage på sporet, som det måske kan være interessant at kende til, selvom det naturligvis ikke har betydning for sangen i sig selv:
“At 5:30 p.m. Krishnamurti came through the back of the canvas. Sliding off his sandals, he sat cross-legged on the table and made the palms together-namaste-gesture of greeting, which the audience returned. In his usual silence, he looked slowly around. Sitting this way in immaculate cleanness and utmost grace, he was a totally beautiful human being. Beautiful is not an odd word to use of this man and a man of seventy; it is the only word. Sex and age had no meaning. It was human beauty so essential that any qualification was irrelevant. As he began to speak with an intensity of precision and almost passion, there was about him an authorithy, a majesty, as if he had entered inti the historic state of the grat teacher, seen only rarely through the centuries.”
Mary Zimbalist “In the Presence of Krishnamurti” p. 13-14.
Kirken i Gyngen 