Friday, June 07, 2002
Translation Number 11
Voice of the People
You are the voice of God, so I once believed
In holy youth; yes, and I’ll say it still!
Untroubled by our wisdom
The streams still rush as well, and yet,
Who does not love them? And always they move
My heart, if I hear far away the disappearing
The presentiments-filled my road not
But more certainly rush toward the sea.
For self-forgetting, all too ready the wish
Of the gods to fulfill, understands too readily
That which is mortal, when open eyes upon
Its own path it once turns
Back into the all the shortest road, so plunges
The stream down, that seeks peace, it tears,
It pulls him against his will, from
Cliff to cliff the rudderless
The wonderful longing for the abyss;
The unbound provokes and peoples too
Comprehend the pleasure of death and brave
Cities, after she tried the best
From year to year driving the work, she
Met a holy end; the earth greens
And lies still before the stars, like
the praying, thrown in the sand
Voluntarily overcome the long art
Before that inimitable there; he himself
Man, by his own hand shattered, the
High to honor, his work the artist.
But lesser are not those to the people dear
They love again, just as they are loved,
And inhibit oftener, that he will long in
Light rejoice, the road of men.
And not the children of the eagle alone, them the
Father throws from the nest, that they not
Stay too long with him, us as well drives with
The righteous thorn the Lord.
Fortunate are they, who are gone to rest
And fallen before their time, also they, also they
Sacrificed, like the first of the
Harvest, they have found a part.
At Xanthos lay, in Greek times, the city,
But now, like the greater who rest there
Is it through fate to the holy light
Of day over come.
They died, however, not in open battle
By their own hand. Fearfully is from that
What happened there, the wonderful
Legend from the east come to us.
It tore them the Goods from Brutus. For
As fire gone out, so he offered himself
them to help, that he at the same time, as field commander
Stood in siege before the gates.
But from the walls they threw the servants
He had sent. Livelier grew
The fire, and they rejoiced and themselves
Stretched towards the hands of Brutus.
And all were beside themselves. Cries
Rose up and jubilations. Into the flames
Man and woman threw themselves, from boys also
He from the roof fell, into the sword of the fathers he.
It isn’t advisable to contradict heroes. Long
Was it prepared, however. The fathers too
That they were seized, once, and
Violently pressed the Persian enemies
Caught fire, grabbing the reed of the rivers
That she would find freedom, the city. And house
And temple took, to the holy ether
Flying, and the people away the flames.
So the children have heard it, and probably
The legends are good, for a reminder
Of the highest they are, but that requires as well
Someone to lay the holy out.
. . .
Sunday, May 12, 2002
Translation Number 10
Like seacoasts, when to build
Like seacoasts, when to build
Begin the heavenly and in
Sails without stopping, a splendor, the work
Of the waves, one upon the other, and the earth
Equips itself, that from the most joyful one
With good pitch, laying it to right strikes
The song, with the wine god, much promising
to the important
And to her, the favorite
Of Greece,
The seaborn, properly seeing
The powerful treasure and shore.
German Original
Wie Meereskuesten, wenn zu baun
Anfangen die Himmlischen und herein
Schifft unaufhaltsam, eine Pracht, das Werk
Der Wogen, eins ums andere, und die Erde
Sich ruestet aus, darauf vom Freudigsten eines
Mit guter Stimmung, zu recht es legend also schlaegt es
Dem Gesang, mit dem Weingott, vielverheissend
dem bedeutenden
Und der Lieblingin
Des Griechenlandes
Der meergeborenen, schicklich blickenden
Das gewaltige Gut und Ufer.
. . .
Translation Number 9
German Original
Home
And no one knows
In the meantime let me wander
And wild berries pick
To extinguish the love of you
Upon your paths, o earth
Here where
and rosethorns
And sweet lindens waft beside
The beeches, in the afternoon, when in the dun cornfield
The growth rustles on a straight stalk
And the ears submit sideways
As in autumn, but now under the high
Dome of the oaks, that I ponder
And upwards ask, the ringing of the bells
Well-known to me
Resounds from far away, goldringing, at the hour when
The bird wakes again. So goes it well.
. . .
Translation Number 7
Conscientious
But it is the sower loves
To see one
Sleeping while it is day
Over her knitting.
Won’t sound pretty
The German tongue
But lovingly
Over a prickly beard rustle
The kisses.
German Original
Fleissig
Es liebet aber der Saemann
Zu sehen eine,
Des Tages schlafend ueber
Dem Strickstrumpf.
Nicht will wohllauten
Der deutsche Mund
aber lieblich
Am stechenden Bart raushen
Die Kuesse.
. . .
Translation Number 8
Upon the dun leaf rests
Upon the dun leaf rests
The grape, the wine’s hope, thus rests upon the cheek,
The shadow of the gold jewelry, that hangs
From the virgin’s ear.
And single I must stay
But lightly catches itself
In the chain, it
Tore itself from, the calf.
German Original
Auf falbem Laube ruhet
Die Traube, des Weines Hoffnung, also ruhet auf der Wange
Der Schatten von dem goldenen Schmuck, der haengt
Am Ohre der Jungfrau.
Und ledig soll ich bleiben
Leicht fanget aber sich
In der Kette, die
Es abgerissen, das Kaelblein.
. . .
Translation Number 6
As the birds slowly fly
As the birds slowly fly
He looks out
The Prince and coolly waft
At his breast the encounters when
It is silent around him, high
In the air richly shining but down
The estate lies to him of the lands, and with him are
The first time victory seeking, the young.
He however measures
With the beat of the wings.
German Original
Wie Voegel langsam ziehen
Es blicket voraus
Der Fuerst und kuehl wehn
An die Brust ihm die Begegnisse wenn
Es um ihn schweiget, hoch
In der Luft, reich glaenzend aber hinab
Das Gut ihm liegt der Laender, und mit ihm sind
Das erstemal siegforschend die Jungen.
Er aber maessiget mit
Der Fittige Schlag.
. . .
Saturday, May 04, 2002
Translation Number 5
German Original
Go down beautiful sun
Go down beautiful sun, they paid scant attention
To what is yours, they knew you not, holy one,
For you untroubled and still are
Above the troubled arisen.
To me friendly you arise and set, o light.
And my eye knows you well, noble one.
For godly quiet I learned to honor
Since Diotima healed my senses.
O you messenger of heaven! How I listened to you!
To you, Diotima! Love! How from you to
The golden day this eye looked up
Shining and thanking. The streams
Rushed livelier there, tenderly
The blooms of the dark earth breathed me in
And laughing over silver clouds
The ether bent with blessing down.
. . .
Translation Number 4
German Original
In the Forest
But man lives in cabins, and wraps himself
In a bashful robe, for more ardent
Is more attentive as well and that he keeps the spirit
As the priestess the holy flame
That is his mind.
And therefore is the caprice to him and the higher power
To be lacking and to complete the god-like
The thing most dangerous to possessions, the language to Man
Given so that he creating, destroying, and
Going under and returning
To the immortal
To the mistress and mother, beget, what
He was to inherit, learned from her, her
The most godly, the all-saving love.
. . .
Translation Number 3
German Original
Apology
Holy being! Often have I disturbed your golden
Godlike peace, and of the more secret
Deeper pains of life
Have you learned much from me.
O forget it, forgive! like the cloud there
Before the peaceful moon, I will go by, and you
Will rest and shine in your
Beauty again, you sweet light.
. . .
Translation Number 2
German Original
The lovers
So we wanted to part, thought it clever and good,
That we did it, why did it shock us like murder, the deed?
Oh, we know ourselves little
For a god is at work in us.
. . .
Saturday, April 27, 2002
Translation Number 1
German Original
Menon's Lament for Diotima
1
Daily I go out, and seek another, always.
All the paths of the land I have asked of her
There above on the cooling hill, the shadows all I have visited
And the streams; back and forth the spirit wanders
Asking for peace; so flees the wounded beast into the forests
Where otherwise it would rest at midday safe in the darkness
But never will its green shelter spur its heart
Crying out and sleepless it is driven forth by the thorn
Not the warmth of the light, and not the cool of the night will help
And in vain it immerses its wounds in the waves of the stream.
And just as in vain the earth will pass to it the joyous healing plant
And the seething blood will be stilled by none of the Zephyri
So it is with you, my love! To me as well, will it thus appear, and no one
Can take the sad dream from my brow?
2
Yeah. It does you no credit, you deathgods! When once
You held him, and had him fast, the defeated and captive man,
When you, evil ones, took him up into the terrible night,
There to seek, to flee, to rage with you
Or patiently but still in fearsome enchantment to live with you
And with smiles to hear from you the sobering melody.
If it is so, then forget your healing, and sleep without sound.
And yet hoping a sound wells up in your breast
Forever can you not, o my soul! Still you cannot
Get used to it, and you dream in the middle of iron sleep.
I have no festival time, and yet I would garland my hair;
Am I then not alone? From faraway there must be
Something friendly close to me, and I must smile and be amazed
How blessed it is to me, also in the midst of pain.
3
Light of love! Do you shine to the dead as well, you golden.
Do you shine pictures of a brighter time at me in the night?
Lovely gardens be, you evening-red mountains
Be welcome and you, silent paths of the meadow,
Beget heavenly happiness and you high-seeing stars
Who granted me so often then your blessing looks
You, you lovers also, you lovely children of the Mayday
Still roses and you lilies, I name you often.
There the springtimes go forth, a year presses upon the other,
Changing and conflicting, so does time roil up there
Above the mortal head, but not before blessed eyes
And to the loving is another life given
For they all the days and years of the stars, they were
Diotima! close around us and eternally united.
4
But we, contentedly joined, like the loving swans who
When they rest upon the lake, or rock upon the waves,
Look down into the waters, where sliver clouds mirror themselves,
And ethereal blue moves beneath the shipping
So upon the earth did we roam. And the north threatened as well
He, the enemy of lovers, readying accusations, and fell
The leaf from the branches, and flew the rain in the wind,
Calmly we smiled, felt our own god
In trusted conversation; in one soul song
Completely at peace with ourselves childlike and joyfully alone
But the house is deserted to me now, and my eyes they have
Taken from me, myself too I have lost with her.
Thus I must wander around, and probably, like the shadows, so must I
Live, and long think senseless what is left to me.
5
I want to celebrate; but what for? and sing with others
But so lonely is every godly absent me
This is it, this my crime, I know, it paralyzes my curse
Around the longing, and tosses me where I begin,
That I sit numb throughout the day, and mute like the children
Only more often do the tears slip cold from my eyes.
And the plants of the fields, and the singing of the birds make me dull
For they are with joy also the messengers of heaven
But in my shivering breast the inspired sun,
Darkens to me cool and barren, like the rays of the night.
Ah, void and empty, like prison walls, the sky
Hangs a bending weight above my head.
6
I knew it differently once! O youth and will prayers
Not bring you back, you never? Does no path lead me back?
Is it to become of me as well, as of the godless, who once
With radiance of eye also sat at the blessed table
But soon glutted, the rapturing guests,
Now fell silent, and now, under the song of the air
Under the blooming earth sleep away, until someday them
The power of a miracle forces them the sleeping,
To return and walk upon the greening ground anew.
Holy breath streams godly through the light shape
When the festival inspires itself, and the waters of love rain themselves
And from heaven drunk, the living river roars,
When down there it resounds, and the night counts her treasures
And up from the streams the buried gold shines.
7.
O but you, who already on the path of parting then
That I sank down before you pointed comfortingly to the beautiful
You, the great to see, and more joyfully to sing the gods,
Quiet like them once silently inspiring taught me
Child of the Gods! you appear to me, and greet me as before
Do you speak again, as then, to me of higher things?
See! I must cry before you, and complain, even now
Thinking of nobler times, for which the soul shames itself.
For so long, so long upon the dull paths of the earth
Have I lived of yours, sought you in error
Joyful spirit of protection! But in vain, and the years ran out
Since intimatingly we saw the evenings shine around us.
8
Only you, you will your light preserve, o Heroine! In light
And your patience lovingly keeps, o Kindness, you.;
And not once will you be alone; playmates are enough
Where you bloom and rest among the roses of the year.
And the father, he himself, through softly breathing muses
Sends the tender lullabies to you .
Yes! She is still it completely. Still from head to foot
Silently changing, as before, the Athenian floats before me.
And as, friendly spirit! from a joyfully-sensing brow
Blessing and sure your beam falls among the mortals
So you witnessed it to me, and told me it, that I would to others
Tell it again, for the others also do not believe it,
That more undying still, than care and rage, is joy
And a golden day is daily still at an end.
9
Thus I want, you heavenly one! also to thank, and finally
Breathe from a lighter breast again the singer's prayer.
And as, when with her I, upon the sunny hill stood with her
A god speaks to me enlivening from within the temple
I want life then too! Already it greens. As from a holy lyre
It calls out from the silver mountains of Apollo.
Come! It was a dream. The bleeding wings are
Already healed, the hopes live rejuvenated all
To find greatness is much, but much is left, and who so
Did love, goes, he must, goes the road to the gods.
Accompany us, you hours of consecration! you earnest
Youthfulness. O stay, holy intimations, you
Pious requests. And you inspirations and all you
Good geniuses, who are gladly with lovers
Stay so long with us, until we on common ground
There, where the blessed all are ready to return
There where the eagles are, constellations, the messengers of the father
There where the muses, from where the heroes and lovers are
There or also here upon the thousand islands accompany us
Where Ours blooming first joined together in the garden
Where the songs true, and the springs are longer beautiful
And from anew a year of our soul begins.
German Original
. . .
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
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