the burden of the old capitalist bourgeois decadent Adam

It is 10:02 AM Sunday morning here. It is a cold snowy morning today. It is predicted to rain and snow all day.

I got up this morning around 7 o'clock AM. I did not fall asleep till sometime past 1 o'clock AM last night. I went to bed around 11 o'clock PM last night but could not fall asleep so I read late into the night from a book titled, 'My Century The Odyssey Of A Polish Intellectual' by Aleksander Wat Edited and translated from the Polish by Richard Lourie.

When I got up this morning I ate some food and then messed with our main computer. After messing with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary. I took photos this morning of my December 2019 Diary and posted them. As I was posting these photos of my December 2019 Diary Carol arrived home from work. Carol had gone downtown to Reader's World Bookstore and gotten a stack of Sunday Morning Newspapers. She got a Sunday New York Times and I looked at the The New York Times Book Review.

It has been a normal morning. Carol has gone to bed for the day. She works tonight and then is off for a couple of days.

I have been reading this morning from a novel titled, 'Kasebier Takes Berlin' by Gabriele Tergit Translated By Sophie Duvernoy.

This afternoon I plan to watch professional football. Yesterday I watched college football and read from a book titled, 'George Marshall Defender Of The Republic' a biography By David L. Roll.

There is not much else to report this morning. Existence keeps speeding by. It is a new month and we are in the Winter season once again.

I will close to drift. There is no way of escape.

There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the flock,
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off in the cold and dark;
Away on the mountains wild and bare,
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;
Are they not enough for Thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer: “This of Mine
Has wandered away from Me;
And although the road be rough and steep,
I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night which the Lord passed through
Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
Out in the bleak desert He heard its cry—
All bleeding and helpless, and ready to die.

“Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way
That mark out the mountain’s track?”
“They were shed for one who had gone astray
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.”
“Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?”
“They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

And all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a cry to the gate of heaven,
“Rejoice! I have found My sheep!”
And the angels echoed around the throne,
“Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!”

https://en.internationalism.org/ir/139/decadence
  • Current Mood: tired tired
Re: hymn
Originally I was thinking of this old gospel hymn to post-

I was a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd’s voice,
I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child,
I did not love my home;
I did not love my Father’s voice,
I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought His sheep,
The Father sought His child;
They followed me o’er vale and hill,
O’er deserts waste and wild;
They found me nigh to death,
Famished and faint and lone;
They bound me with the bands of love,
They saved the wand’ring one.

They spoke in tender love,
They raised my drooping head,
They gently closed my bleeding wounds,
My fainting soul they fed;
They washed my filth away,
They made me clean and fair;
They brought me to my home in peace,
The long sought wanderer.

Jesus my Shepherd is:
’Twas He that loved my soul;
’Twas He that washed me in His blood,
’Twas He that made me whole.
’Twas He that sought the lost,
That found the wand’ring sheep,
’Twas He that brought me to the fold,
’Tis He that still doth keep.

No more a wandering sheep,
I love to be controlled;
I love my tender Shepherd’s voice,
I love the peaceful fold.
No more a wayward child,
I seek no more to roam;
I love my heavenly Father’s voice,
I love, I love His home!