Nigel Jackson on Ernst Zündel





Homage to Ernst Zündel


It's a long way from Calmbach fields

And forest paths to a small, locked cell.

A long way up.

As eagles soar on the hidden thrusts of air,

As larks lift swiftly on their chanted bliss,

Or as the patterning of well-placed notes erupts

With solemn organ-hymns from old man Bach

And sweeps souls heavenwards with measured ease,

So you have raised us high with simple love of truth.



Even the brothers Grimm, could we but call

Them back into these times and borrow monsters,

Ogres, trolls, gross giants, goblins, fiends

From the great book of tales they saved and stored,

Would be tongue-tied and stunned-silent, if required

To pen with accuracy the meagre lineaments

And icy hearts, malignant, bleak and dull,

Of those who have harried you with anti-laws

And bonds of verbiage in most abysmal servitude

To the thin piping of the dwarf-tyrants of our age!



Let the King's herald sound again his hurl

Of trumpet-calls to the high hills around,

Transfix the hearts of the Brabant peasant-folk

And shake the distant fortress-place beyond,

While evil conjurors, ambitious, treacherous

And foolish-bold, imagine in their pettiness of dream

That nothing from the shining world will possibly upset

Their cruel plan; but you hear the gathering chorus-swell

Of amazed joy around and rebound exultantly in a ring

Of delirious joy around the gravely-gazing King

As Elsa's prayer for championing is answered by that Knight

Swan-drawn and solver-corseleted, whose supreme sword

Will smite the enemies of sweet integrity to doom,

As the Grail itself descends in scales and trails of light

And Wagner's Lohengrin sets foot to soil,

As your own feet have graced again the Fatherland!



We will take the hand of Luther to hammer on the door

Of the four winds the fairness of your name and case!

We will summon Heidegger to celebrate clarity

Of soul and mind in defence of your sure voice!

He will come from that tiny hut and his last days

When he stood his ground as the harpy-folk bewailed.

We will call Goethe in his grand cloak of amorous

Intensity and joy! We will cry down Nietzsche

And his Overman and his vast scorn of the mean scum!

All these now, Ernst, are fellows of your triumphing!


after the return to Germany



Read Nigel Jackson's: Lion for Freedom - tribute to Eric Butler

Top of Page | Home Page

©-free 2005 Adelaide Institute