SON OF THE EAGLES

In Memoriam Ernst Zundel

    By craft they brought you down, but not your name,
    Those adversaries from the dark; so you were kept
    Out of the public ring. Most talk of you was swept
    Into the media limbo by corrupt and dirty game.
    Your body cabined, not your soul, to others’ shame,
    You sturdily lived on; no fruitless tears were wept.
    A gnashing of teeth elsewhere, but your spirit leapt
    Higher still and their malice wrote you into fame.

    Like Heidegger, you accepted fate without demur,
    In the Black Forest countryside quietly, well,
    Working still to pass on stories that were
    Worth suffering for about enemies most fell.
    Now is the time for Parsifal himself to manifest
    And guide you to Montsalvat and your fellow-blest.

    by  NIGEL JACKSON
    8th August 2017

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