The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 06. Коллектив авторов. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

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the faith of love he converted;

        I drank to the health of my bitterest foes,

        And I forgave all bad poets sincerely,

        Even as I may one day be forgiven;

        I wept with devotion, and at length

        The doors of salvation were opened unto me,

        Where the sacred Vats, the twelve Apostles,

        Silently preach, yet oh, so plainly,

        Unto all nations.

        These be men forsooth!

        Of humble exterior, in jackets of wood,

        Yet within they are fairer and more enlightened

        Than all the Temple's proud Levites,

        Or the courtiers and followers of Herod,

        Though decked out in gold and in purple;

        Have I not constantly said:

        Not with the herd of common low people,

        But in the best and politest of circles

        The King of Heaven was sure to dwell!

        Hallelujah! How lovely the whisper

        Of Bethel's palm-trees!

        How fragrant the myrtle-trees of Hebron!

        How sings the Jordan and reels with joy!

        My immortal spirit likewise is reeling,

        And I reel in company, and, joyously reeling,

        Leads me upstairs and into the daylight

        That excellent Town-Cellar Master of Bremen.

        Thou excellent Town-Cellar Master of Bremen!

        Dost see on the housetops the little angels

        Sitting aloft, all tipsy and singing?

        The burning sun up yonder

        Is but a fiery and drunken nose—

        The Universe Spirit's red nose;

        And round the Universe Spirit's red nose

        Reels the whole drunken world.

* * * * *

      A NEW SPRING (1831)

139

        Soft and gently through my soul

        Sweetest bells are ringing,

        Speed you forth, my little song,

        Of springtime blithely singing!

        Speed you onward to a house

        Where sweet flowers are fleeting!

        If, perchance, a rose you see,

        Say, I send her greeting!

240

        Thy deep blue eyes enchant me,

        So lovingly they glow;

        My gazing soul grows dreamy,

        My words come strange and slow.

        Thy deep blue eyes enchant me

        Wherever I may go:

        An ocean of azure fancies

        O'erwhelms me with its flow.

341

        Was once an ancient monarch,

        Heavy his heart, his locks were gray,

        This poor and aged monarch

        Took a wife so young and gay.

        Was once a page-boy handsome,

        With lightsome heart and curly hair,

        The silken train he carried

        Of the queen so young and fair.

        Dost know the old, old story?

        It sounds so sweet, so sad to tell—

        Both were obliged to perish,

        They loved each other too well.

* * * * *

      ABROAD42 (1834)

        Oh I had once a beauteous Fatherland!

        High used to seem

        The oak—so high!—the violets nodded kind—

        It was a dream.

        In German I was kissed, in German told

        (You scarce would deem

        How sweetly rang the words): "I love thee well!—"

        It was a dream.

* * * * *

      THE SPHINX43 (1839)

        It is the fairy forest old,

          With lime-tree blossoms scented!

        The moonshine with its mystic light

          My soul and sense enchanted.

        On, on I roamed, and, as I went,

          Sweet music o'er me rose there;

        It is the nightingale—she sings

          Of love and lovers' woes there.

        She sings of love and lovers' woes,

          Hearts blest, and hearts forsaken:

        So sad is her mirth, so glad her sob,

          Dreams long forgot awaken.

        Still on I roamed, and, as I went,

          I saw before me lowering

        On a great wide lawn a stately pile,

          With gables peaked and towering.

        Closed were its windows, everywhere

          A hush, a gloom, past telling;

        It seemed as though silent Death within

          These empty halls were dwelling.

        A Sphinx lay there before the door,

          Half-brutish and half-human,

        A lioness in trunk and claws,

          In head and breasts a woman.

        A lovely woman! The pale cheek

          Spoke of desires that wasted;

        The hushed lips curved into a smile,

          That wooed them to be tasted.

        The nightingale so sweetly sang,

          I yielded to their wooing;

        And as I kissed that winning face,

          I sealed my own undoing.

        The marble image thrilled with life,

          The stone began to quiver;

        She drank my kisses' burning flame

          With fierce convulsive shiver.

        She


<p>39</p>

Translator: Kate Freiligrath-Kroeker. Permission The Walter Scott Publishing Co., Ltd., London.

<p>40</p>

Translator: Kate Freiligrath-Kroeker. Permission The Walter Scott Publishing Co., Ltd., London.

<p>41</p>

Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.

<p>42</p>

Translator: Margaret Armour. Permission William Heinemann, London.

<p>43</p>

Translator: Sir Theodore Martin. Permission William Blackwood & Sons, London.