PSALM 11, AMPLIFIED Erna Buber-deVilliers
In the Lord I take refuge. How then can you say to me: "Flee like a bird to your mountain. Or to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, anywhere. You could even make it in the States, probably. Others have." For look, the wicked bent their bows; plant their car-bombs and limpet-mines, point their machine-guns, traditional weapons and throw their stones and their teargas canisters; they set their arrows against the strings to shoot from the shadows and cast their slurs at the upright in heart until nobody knows whom to believe. You say, "when the foundations are being destroyed, and the floodgates of hatred and fear are being opened, and they are moving into our suburbs and all the things that were kept secret, under cover, battened down When those things crowd in on us invade our living rooms march through opur streets with banners and fists; When we are brought face-to-face with the ghettos we ignored, the corruption we suspected when the country is going to the dogs, What can the righteous do?" |