Göran Gustafsson


For Every Fallen Sparrow - Poem by Göran Gustafsson

When life has turned into briers and thorns
A wasted land without songs of sparrows
Men will rise and bend their bows
And the wind will sing with the sound of arrows

For you who cut down the life-giving forests
And poison the land and the sea;
For you who turn the wine into wormwood
And trample our right to be free:
The wind will sing with the sound of an arrow
For every little fallen sparrow!

For you who spit on the right to be human
And force your will with the gun;
For you who throw us back into slavery
And darken the sight of the sun:
The wind will sing with the sound of an arrow
For every little fallen sparrow!

For you who foster a life of desire
And blaspheme our temples with greed;
For you who claim the right to the power
But turn your back when we bleed:
The wind will sing with the sound of an arrow
For every little fallen sparrow!

We shall strike down the walls of your prison
We shall climb out your deepest cave
We shall drive you from land and the water
We shall lower you down in the grave
And for each and every fallen sparrow
The wind will sing with the sound of an arrow!

'Cause when life has turned into briers and thorns
A wasted land without songs of sparrows
Men will rise and bend their bows
And the wind will sing with the sound of arrows


Copyright © 2011 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved


'The insignificant value placed upon sparrows can symbolize for us today the increasing tendency toward humanity's devaluation of God's creation. By that I mean, the created order, including sparrows, has been viewed as being of little value to humans outside of its utilitarian benefits; that is, as something to feed, cloth, house, add comfort, produce goods, or bring material prosperity to human beings. Science, industry, technology, and capital have become the center of our value system, often to the detriment and destruction of land, water, air, and animal life. Because our values have been placed in that which produces human benefit, we have neglected to value and therefore care for God's creation in and of itself.'
(Leo Hartshorn)


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 14, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 30, 2012


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