Bone River - Fluss der Träume (German Edition)
I cannot see her, since the mist's white scarf Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky; But she's waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh. Why does she come so promptly, when she must know That she's only the nearer to the inevitable farewell; The hill is steep, on the snow my steps are slow-- Why does she come, when she knows what I have to tell?
💛 Download For Free Geschichten Aus Der Lustgrotte German Edition Mobi
Lawrence - Wer vermag zu regnen? Wem geht ein Wind durchs Herz, unwidersprechlich? Wer ist zugleich so biegsam und gebrechlich wie jeder Zweig an einem jeden Baum? He lives in Seattle, Washington with his wife. Jack Prelutsky claims to have hated poetry when he was younger. Joseph von Eichendorff - Comment Very Early Spring The fields are snowbound no longer; There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky-- So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold. Now the sun walks in the forest, He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; They shiver, and wake from slumber. Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls. Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears A wind dances over the fields. Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter, Yet the little blue lakes tremble And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver. Katherine Mansfield — Da sprach eine Stimme: Da sprang der Laden auf. Soll ich es wirklich wagen, Die Augen aufzuschlagen?
Da gingen mir die Augen auf: Otto Julius Bierbaum Verehrter Freund, so sei denn nicht vermessen, Sei zart und schweig auch du. Wer nicht besonders auserlesen, Dem macht die Tugend Schwierigkeit. Comment Two Tramps in Mud Time Out of the mud two strangers came And caught me splitting wood in the yard, And one of them put me off my aim By hailing cheerily "Hit them hard! Robert Frost - He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes.
A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. Comment The Mask of Anarchy I. I met Murder on the way- He had a mask like Castlereagh- Very smooth he looked, yet grim; Seven blood-hounds followed him: All were fat; and well they might Be in admirable plight, For one by one, and two by two, He tossed them human hearts to chew Which from his wide cloak he drew. Next came Fraud, and he had on, Like Eldon, an ermined gown; His big tears, for he wept well, Turned to mill-stones as they fell.
And the little children, who Round his feet played to and fro, Thinking every tear a gem, Had their brains knocked out by them. Clothed with the Bible, as with light, And the shadows of the night, Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy On a crocodile rode by. And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade, All disguised, even to the eyes, Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.
In his call for freedom, it is perhaps the first modern statement of the principle of nonviolent resistance http: Sitzt nun am Ofen. Liest, was gewesen ist. Springflut und Havarie, Sturm und Lawinen, - gibt es denn niemals Ruh drunten bei ihnen. Schaut den Kalender an. Blickt auf die Erde. Schnee vom vergangenen Jahr blieb nicht der gleiche. Liegt wie ein Bettbezug klein auf der Bleiche. Mustert im Fortgehn noch Weiden und Erlen. In Baum und Krume regt sich's allenthalben.
Durch die glatten kahlen Alleen treibt sein Wehn blasse Schatten und den Duft, den er gebracht, von wo er gekommen seit gestern Nacht. Hugo von Hofmannstal - Auf einmal legt sich Schonung an der Wiesen aufgedecktes Grau. Wege gehen weit ins Land und zeigens. Unvermutet siehst du seines Steigens Ausdruck in dem leeren Baum. Rainer Maria Rilke — Entstanden Comment To Spring O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
William Blake — Written in Wer rettete vom Tode mich, Von Sklaverei? Hast du die Schmerzen gelindert Je des Beladenen? Comment Love's Blindness Now do I know that Love is blind, for I Can see no beauty on this beauteous earth, No life, no light, no hopefulness, no mirth, Pleasure nor purpose, when thou art not nigh. Thy absence exiles sunshine from the sky, Seres Spring's maturity, checks Summer's birth, Leaves linnet's pipe as sad as plover's cry, And makes me in abundance find but dearth.
But when thy feet flutter the dark, and thou With orient eyes dawnest on my distress, Suddenly sings a bird on every bough, The heavens expand, the earth grows less and less, The ground is buoyant as the ether now, And all looks lovely in thy loveliness. Alfred Austin — Rudolf Presber - Emily Dickinson — Einen letzten Strich tat der Geigerich- und dann war nichts weiter zu beweisen. Christian Morgenstern — Comment A Stopwatch and an Ordnance Map. At five a man fell to the ground And the watch flew off his wrist. Eine Stoppuhr und eine Generalstabskarte. Alles unter den Oliven.
Alles unter den Oliven Noch ein Versuch: Comment An vielen Tagen By Horst Langheim Throughout my life, on many days, Adversity and pain was mine, But wrapped in love — its warm embrace, I didn't live one day in vain. And love, just love, it is God's might Which in our darkest days Will fan the flames in us to light The world, dispel the haze. So let the flames burn strong and high And daily fan the fires; No evil spirit can defy A glowing heart that good inspires. Das Erdbeben Erkenne nun: Wohin nun denkst du rettend? Kein Ausweg mehr ins Andre: Maria Luise Weissmann — Comment Sonnet 30 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Ich freue mich, dass du wieder dabei bist, heute mit einem der bekanntesten Shakespeare-Sonette. Unglaublich, wie weit Wikipedia schon entwickelt ist: Allerdings bleibt mir nur der Verweis auf: Comment Wie ich eben sehe, ist heute ein anderer Limerick unter zu lesen. Hier noch ein Versuch, den Atom-Fan einzufangen: Noch bedeutsamer und beunruhigender als konkrete Personen sind die Einstellungen, die anhand politischer Figuren sinnbildhaft karikiert werden.
Roald Dahl — After school, Roald Dahl didn't go to university, but applied for a job at the Shell company, because he was sure they would send him abroad. He was sent to East Africa, where he got the adventure he wanted: He lived in the jungle, learned to speak Swahili and suffered from malaria. He was a fighter pilot and shot down German planes and got shot down himself. After 6 months in hospital he flew again. Comment Geld regiert die Welt oder: Nur aus der Werlt Wer nicht hat Geld! Denn ohne Geld Schafft man nichts in der Welt. Kommt Kunst gegangen vor ein Haus, Man sagt, der Wirth sei gangen aus.
Johann Michael Moscherosch, Comment On December 30, , John Keats and Leigh Hunt challenged each other to write a sonnet on the subject of "the grasshopper and cricket. On the Grasshopper and Cricket The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead In summer luxury,--he has never done With his delights; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never: On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, And seems to one in drowsiness half lost, The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills. Indoors and out, summer and winter,--Mirth. Sind es die Wiesen? Ist es das Tal? Goldene Fische Wimmeln im See.
- La concession à perpétuité (French Edition).
- The Passengers!
- Gestión y liderazgo en una empresa de seguros (Spanish Edition).
Saget, seit gestern Wie mir geschah? Liebliche Schwestern, Liebchen ist da! Streams richer laden Flow through the dale, Are these the meadows? Is this the vale? Fish crowd the ocean, Golden and bright. Birds of gay plumage Sport in the grove, Heavenly numbers Singing above. Under the verdure's Vigorous bloom, Bees, softly bumming, Juices consume. Gentle disturbance Quivers in air, Sleep-causing fragrance, Motion so fair. Soon with more power Rises the breeze, Then in a moment Dies in the trees. But to the bosom Comes it again. Aid me, ye Muses, Bliss to sustain! Say what has happen'd Since yester e'en?
Oh, ye fair sisters, Her I have seen! Comment Full Moon One night as Dick lay fast asleep,. Auf treten Vorfelder im Regen und …. Ingeborg Bachmann — http: Detlev on Liliencron — Quotes of the night; Comment ach Claus, bei einem Glas Rotwein funktioniert das nicht mehr. Hat jemand vielleicht eine Idee? Eigentlich die beste Gelegenheit, moderne Gedichte hier komplett einzustellen. Mein Wannenbad Es muss wieder mal sein. Ich steige hinein In zirka zwei Kubikmeter See. Comment Dream Deferred What happens to a dream deferred?
Spring lets its blue ribbon flutter again in the breeze;. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare http: Auden — http: Da kommt der Wind! Sie flattern und schwelln! Heinrich Heine - Buch der Lieder. Comment Daffodils I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
He belonged to the Symbolist school.
Most Common German Words | Most Common Words
Durch das vergilbte Rohr bricht scheu ein Wild. It will check him. Second Girl I shall run before him, Arching cloths besprinkled with colors As small as fish-eggs. The threads Will abash him. Third Girl Oh, la I shall run before him, With a curious puffing. He will bend his ear then.
I shall whisper Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals. It will undo him. Wallace Stevens — This poem was first published in , so it is in the public domain. Sieh, auf die gleichen Klippen schwimm ich ein. Walter Hasenclever — C'est, vers les ramures grises, Le choeur des petites voix. Tu dirais, sous l'eau qui vire, Le roulis sourd des cailloux.
Paul Verlaine — This is ecstasy This is languorous ecstasy, This is sensual weariness, This is all the rustling of forests In the embrace of the breezes. This is, through the gray boughs, The chorus of little voices. Oh, the faint cool murmur, It twitters and whispers, It resembles the gentle cry Which the ruffled grass exhales.
You might call it, under the water that eddies, The muted rolling of pebbles. This soul which is lamenting In this subdued plaint, It is ours, is it not? Say that it is mine, and yours Which breathes this humble hymn, So softly, on this mild evening. Comment Sonnet 98 From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him, Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odor and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play. Hanno Helbling nach Da, Herr, da gab es rechte Beute! Es lebe Prinz Eugen! Damit mein Herz auch ihn verehren Und ihn beneiden kann. Dort lag sein Gut am Rhein Ihr seid sein wahrer Erbe! Doch endlich kamen sie einander in die Haare, Und ihre Republik versank in Anarchie.
Ha, rief das arme Volk mit tiefgesenkten Ohren Und mit geschundner Haut, was haben wir getan! I only trust your heart now, And have no other god. This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose. Comment Spring is like a perhaps hand http: Da der pfaff fant von guter roter seiden ein schon messgwant, darum kauft er bescheiden; des kaufs wurden sie eins zwischen in beiden; er wolts versuchen an, Und leget von im seinen rock; im beutel het er zweinzig schock, den er auch von im legt.
Der pfaff zuhant dem diebe wart nachlaufen in dem messgwant mit blasen und mit schnaufen. Als sich der rechte dieb verlief, der kaufman den pfaffen ergrief bei seinem messgwant rot. Zweihundert schock behemisch must auch geben zu straf Hans Bock, welcher im nam das leben und het vor nit all ding erforschet eben, e er hant leget on. Comment The Enkindled Spring This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, Faces of people streaming across my gaze. And I, what fountain of fire am I among This leaping combustion of spring? Lawrence — Thou herald of rich Summer's myriad flowers!
The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling:: Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers:: Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers, Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing:: To make all nature glad, thou art so gay; To fill the lonely with a joy untold;:: Nodding at every gust of wind to-day, To-morrow jewelled with raindrops.
To stand erect, full in the dazzling play Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold. Amy Lowell — Comment Die Tulpe Dunkel war alles und Nacht. Comment A Tulip Garden Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace! Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry, With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye Of purple batteries, every gun in place.
Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread, With torches burning, stepping out in time To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead, We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime Parades that army. With our utmost powers We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers. The riches left, not got with pain; The fruitful ground; the quiet mind; The equal friend, no grudge, no strife; No charge of rule, nor governance; Without disease, the healthy life; The household of continuance; The mean diet, no delicate fare; True wisdom joined with simpleness; The night discharged of all care, Where wine the wit may not oppress; The faithful wife, without debate; Such sleeps as may beguile the night; Contented with mine own estate, No wish for death, nor fear his might.
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey — Another year Is quick with import. Such each year has been. Unmoved thou watchest all, and all bequeath Some jewel to thy diadem of power, Thou pledge of greater majesty unseen. Amy Lowell — http: I march with feet that burn and smart Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart. Men shout at me who may not speak They scourged Thy back and smote Thy cheek. I may not lift a hand to clear My eyes of salty drops that sear. Then shall my fickle soul forget Thy Agony of Bloody Sweat? My rifle hand is stiff and numb From Thy pierced palm red rivers come. Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me Than all the hosts of land and sea.
So let me render back again This millionth of Thy gift. Joyce Kilmer — http: But now I clearly see that of mankind Long time I was the tale: James Caulfeild, 1st Earl of Charlemont — Comment This poem by Robert Frost was first published in or , so it is in the public domain. Revelation We make ourselves a place apart Behind light words that tease and flout, But oh, the agitated heart Till someone find us really out. But so with all, from babes that play At hide-and-seek to God afar, So all who hide too well away Must speak and tell us where they are.
Robert Frost — http: Pom-POM allait en guerre Per vendere cannoni. Comment Love Sonnet Now you are old and mostly bald. Comment Daybreak At Dawn she lay with her profile at that angle. Comment A Love Song Reject me not if I should say to you I do forget the sounding of your voice, I do forget your eyes that searching through The mists perceive our marriage, and rejoice.
Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide Under the pallid moonlight's fingering, I see your blanched face at my breast, and hide My eyes from diligent work, malingering. Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw The blind to hide the garden, where the moon Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon. And I do lift my aching arms to you, And I do lift my anguished, avid breast, And I do weep for very pain of you, And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest. And I do toss through the troubled night for you, Dreaming your yielded mouth is given to mine, Feeling your strong breast carry me on into The peace where sleep is stronger even than wine.
A Guardian Angel—how absurd!.. My Guardian Angel http: Comment Zu , Still a living text: Er war ein junger Schmetterling, Der selig an der Blume hing. Ach Gott, wie das dem Schmetterling So schmerzlich durch die Seele ging. Wilhelm Busch — http: Aus dem hohlen finstern Tor Dringt ein buntes Gewimmel hervor.
Dictionary Navigation
Jeder sonnt sich heute so gern. Sie feiern die Auferstehung des Herrn, Denn sie sind selber auferstanden: Selbst von des Berges fernen Pfaden Blinken uns farbige Kleider an. Hier bin ich Mensch, hier darf ichs sein! Die Stelle mit dem Esel mag ich besonders gerne Comment Ostern Da ist nun unser Osterhase-! Dann geht er wichtig in die Hecken und tut, was sonst nur Hennen tun. Da sind sie nun. Bunt angemalen sagt jedes Ei: Iss du das Ei! Iss nur das Ei! Kurt Tucholsky — O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang!
Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang! They create in every corner Oh fresh scent, oh new sound! Now, poor dear [heart], fear not! Now everything, everything must change, The world becomes more beautiful with each day One does not know what may yet happen,. The blooming doesn't want to end. The farthest, deepest valley blooms: Now, poor dear, forget the pain!.
Now everything, everything must change. Prose translation by Hyde Flippo. Comment Grass Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Comment Merci beaucoup, oopsy 23 Apr 11 With the love of the storm he burns, He sings, he laughs, well I know how, But forgets when he returns As I shall not forget her 'Go now'. Those two words shut a door Between me and the blessed rain That was never shut before And will not open again.
Edward Thomas — Anglo-Welsh writer of prose and poetry. He is commonly considered a war poet, although few of his poems deal directly with his war experiences. Already an accomplished writer, Thomas turned to poetry only in He enlisted in the army in , and was killed in action during the Battle of Arras in , soon after he arrived in France. Ey du edler Reben-Safft! Hans Jakob Christoffel von Grimmelshausen — Comment Kurze Gedichte haben etwas ganz Besonderes. Oft braucht der Autor einige Zeit, sich so kurz zu fassen und dabei gleich auf den Punkt zu kommen.
In April one seldom feels cheerful; Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful;. Auch wenn sie nicht nach Quoten schielen: Es ist daher in the public domain gemeinfrei. I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss; There never was a bargain better driven. His heart in me keeps me and him in one; My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides: He loves my heart, for once it was his own; I cherish his because in me it bides. His heart his wound received from my sight; My heart was wounded with his wounded heart; For as from me on him his hurt did light, So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart: Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss, My true love hath my heart and I have his.
Remembrance wakened in my heart And I knew I loved her dearly. The fallows and the leafless trees And all my spirit tingled. My earliest thought of love, and Spring's First puff of perfume mingled. In my still heart the thoughts awoke, Came lone by lone together - Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love A mere affair of weather?
Nun der Blick auf einmal helle, Sieh! Es lauscht der Teich mit offnem Mund. Ganz leise heult der Schluchtenhund. Die Drommel reckt sich auf im Rohr. Der Moosfrosch lugt aus seinem Moor. Der Schreck horcht auf in seinem Haus. Das Irrlicht selbst macht Halt und Rast auf einem windgebrochnen Ast.
Sophie, die Maid, hat ein Gesicht: Das Mondschaf geht zum Hochgericht. Im fernen Dorf schreit ein Kind. Der Rabe Ralf ruft schaurig: Das End ist da! In the fairest time of year, Dearest bird, oh! Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo. Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo! A loving pair Fain would to the altar fare; Yes! Is the hour not fix'd by fate? Say, how long must they still wait? Only two years patient be! But if we ourselves please here, Will pa-pa-papas appear? Know that thou'lt more kindness do us, More thou'lt prophesy unto us.
Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo! If we've calculated clearly, We have half a dozen nearly. If good promises we'll give, Wilt thou say how long we'II live? Truly, we'll confess to thee, We'd prolong it willingly. Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo, Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo! Life is one continued feast-- If we keep no score, at least. If now we together dwell, Will true love remain as well? For if that should e'er decay, Happiness would pass away. Zwischen und besuchte er die Bergvorschule in Dahlhausen.
Obwohl er diese erfolgreich absolvierte verzichtete er auf seine Fortbildung zum Steiger. Ist die Stunde denn noch nicht voll? Sag, wie lange es warten soll! Ist es doch nicht unsre Schuld! Nur zwei Jahre noch Geduld! Aber, wenn wir uns genommen, Werden Pa-pa-papas kommen?
Immer weiter Coucou, Coucou, Cou. Wenn wir gute Worte geben, Sagst du wohl, wie lang wir leben? Sind wir nun zusammen blieben, Bleibt denn auch das treue Lieben? Cou Coucou, Cou Coucou: Zu euch, ihr Inseln! Kap Sounion auch Sunion. Doch kaum erholt er sich vom Schreck, da spricht er ohn' Verdriessen: Doch kaum erholt er sich vom Schreck, vergessen war das Leiden: Doch bald erholt er sich vom Schreck: Friedrich Schlegel — Charles Baudelaire — The One Possessed http: Academy Library Guild, William Aggeler majored in electrical engineering at Caltech, and after graduation he continued in this field for five years.
He then went to Paris and studied French literature, art and history at the Sorbonne, which convinced him that this was his real interest. Comment Das scharfe S auch sz gibt es immer noch: Cold lie the daisy banks Clothed but in green, Where, in the days agone, Bright hues were seen. Fast falls the snow, Bending the daffodil's Haughty head low. Under that fleecy tent, Careless of cold, Blithe little Dandelion Counteth her gold.
Meek little Dandelion Groweth more fair, Till dies the amber dew Out from her hair. High rides the thirsty sun, Fiercely and high; Faint little Dandelion Closeth her eye. Helen Barron Bostwick [? Der Berliner Senat stimmte der Ehrung am 6. Comment For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered is grief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Comment Suspense and thriller: Schiller Ein Klassiker, den es sich zu lesen lohnt. Was wolltest du mit dem Dolche, sprich! Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach, Hier oben aber, wie grausamlich Sonne und Rosen stechen sie mich! Josef Guggenmos — Self-Unconscious Along the way He walked that day, Watching shapes that reveries limn, And seldom he Had eyes to see The moment that encompassed him. Bright yellowhammers Made mirthful clamours, And billed long straws with a bustling air, And bearing their load Flew up the road That he followed, alone, without interest there.
From bank to ground And over and round They sidled along the adjoining hedge; Sometimes to the gutter Their yellow flutter Would dip from the nearest slatestone ledge. The smooth sea-line With a metal shine, And flashes of white, and a sail thereon, He would also descry With a half-wrapt eye Between the projects he mused upon. Yes, round him were these Earth's artistries, But specious plans that came to his call Did most engage His pilgrimage, While himself he did not see at all. Dead now as sherds Are the yellow birds, And all that mattered has passed away; Yet God, the Elf, Now shows him that self As he was, and should have been shown, that day.
O it would have been good Could he then have stood At a focussed distance, and conned the whole, But now such vision Is mere derision, Nor soothes his body nor saves his soul. Not much, some may Incline to say, To see in him, had it all been seen. Comment The Green Linnet Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head, With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather, In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard-seat!
And birds and flowers once more to greet, My last year's friends together. One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest: Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! While birds, and butterflies, and flowers, Make all one band of paramours, Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment: A Life, a Presence like the Air, Scattering thy gladness without care, Too blest with any one to pair; Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstasies, Yet seeming still to hover; There!
My dazzled sight he oft deceives, A brother of the dancing leaves; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes; As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he chose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes. Comment Vater werden ist nicht schwer… Vater werden ist nicht schwer, Vater sein dagegen sehr.
Wilhelm Busch Das musste zum Vatertag jetzt sein: Comment The Cat and the Moon The cat went here and there And the moon spun round like a top, And the nearest kin of the moon, The creeping cat, looked up. Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon, For, wander and wail as he would, The pure cold light in the sky Troubled his animal blood. Minnaloushe runs in the grass Lifting his delicate feet. Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance? When two close kindred meet, What better than call a dance? Maybe the moon may learn, Tired of that courtly fashion, A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass From moonlit place to place, The sacred moon overhead Has taken a new phase. Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils Will pass from change to change, And that from round to crescent, From crescent to round they range? Minnaloushe creeps through the grass Alone, important and wise, And lifts to the changing moon His changing eyes.
William Butler Yeats — http: Comment Creatures The butterfly, alive inside a box,. Jeder Schmetterling den ich rette. Es ist was es ist. Comment Pour faire le portrait d'un oiseau Peindre d'abord une cage. Comment Erst in 22 Jahren gemeinfrei. Hermann Hesse — http: Aber vor des Kampfes Gitter Ritt zuletzt ein schwarzer Ritter.
Und zur reichen Tafel kamen Alle Ritter, alle Damen. Bleich die Kinder beide schienen; Bot der Gast den Becher ihnen: Wohin der graue, Erschrockne Vater schaue, Sieht er eins der Kinder sterben. Comment Heute mal kein Gedicht. Der Schwarze Ritter Oder: Der Schwarze Ritter triumphiert immer Monty Python http: Comment Etwas Statistik zu The poetry corner - Vol. Eine gemeinsame Auswertung vom ersten Artikel bis Vol.
Busch, Goethe, Heine, Morgenstern Rilke, Ringelnatz, Trakl Englischsprachige: William Blake, Robert Frost Comment The Arrow and the Song I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. Longfellow war ein Volksdichter. Toni Harten-Hoencke — http: Schwarz in einer Felsenscharte stand der Donner da und harrte — scharrte dumpf mit Hals und Hufe, dass man ihn nach Hause rufe. Doch das dunkle Donnerfohlen — niemand kams nach Hause holen. Traurig sieht er sich im See fahl, wie alten Gletscherschnee. Comment Spring Thunder http: Comment Die Stadt Sehr weit ist diese Nacht.
Und tausend Fenster stehn die Nacht entlang Und blinzeln mit den Lidern, rot und klein. Wohl denen, die des Wissens Gut Nicht mit dem Herzen zahlen. Comment There's a polar bear in our frigidaire. Bear In There http: Er war auch bekannt unter dem Namen Uncle Shelby. Achim von Arnim - You shoot a fellow down You'd treat if met where any bar is, Or help to half-a-crown. Comment Greater Love Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to their love pure.
O Love, your eyes lose lure When I behold eyes blinded in my stead! Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed, Rolling and rolling there Where God seems not to care; Till the fierce Love they bear Cramps them in death's extreme decrepitude. Your voice sings not so soft,— Though even as wind murmuring through raftered loft,— Your dear voice is not dear, Gentle, and evening clear, As theirs whom none now hear Now earth has stopped their piteous mouths that coughed.
Heart, you were never hot, Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot; And though your hand be pale, Paler are all which trail Your cross through flame and hail: Weep, you may weep, for you may touch them not. November bei Ors, Frankreich http: Erich Fried — Comment Unintentional double-post Fehlermeldung Fehlertyp: Proxy Request Error Fehlerbeschreibung: Der Zugriff auf war nicht erfolgreich. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people's feet Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day? To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in my room alone, My heart has many a sweet bird's song -- And one that's all my own.
Franz Grillparzer — Es geht ihnen besser Was wird da geschehn? Das kann nicht gehn. Die Kerls sind nicht ehrlich! Sie toben, vom wilden Affen gebissen. Ist etwas auf Erden schief und krumm, dann riecht es bestimmt nach Petroleum. Comment Siebenundzwanzig Millionen 27 Mio.
Ruf wieder sanft, und noch einmal. Markt, kommerzielles Viertel in einer arabischen Stadt Deutsch: Comment Buddha Als ob er horchte. Und er ist Stern. O er ist alles. The poetry corner related discussion: The protection expires 70 years after the author's death Section 64 of the Copyright Act.
In the case of an anonymous author and of an author publishing under a pseudonym, copyright expires 70 years after publication. After the end of the protection period, the work is in the public domain. Official works are always in the public domain according to Section 5 of the Copyright Act. Weblinks can be set to sites where poems appear, the publication of which would violate copyright. Mexican Loneliness Jack Kerouac — http: Comment Der Donner Es donnert! Zeus ist gerecht, er straft das Meer: Sollt er in seinen Nektar schlagen?
Heinrich Heine — http: Die Textwiedergabe erfolgt nach dem ersten Druck. Sieh, es ist Heut Gelegenheit! Weisst du, wo du morgen bist? Aufschub einer guten That Hat schon oft gereut! Johann Wilhelm Ludwig Gleim, Comment Summer Evening The frog half fearful jumps across the path, And little mouse that leaves its hole at eve Nimbles with timid dread beneath the swath; My rustling steps awhile their joys deceive, Till past, and then the cricket sings more strong, And grasshoppers in merry moods still wear The short night weary with their fretting song.
Up from behind the molehill jumps the hare, Cheat of his chosen bed, and from the bank The yellowhammer flutters in short fears From off its nest hid in the grasses rank, And drops again when no more noise it hears. Thus nature's human link and endless thrall, Proud man, still seems the enemy of all. Comment Schwalbenwitz Wahrlich, wahrlich, ich sage euch, Himmel und Erde sind sich gleich. Da wird der Himmel ein lachender Erbe.
Die Semikolons werden Drohnen genannt von Beistrich und von Punkt. Es bildet sich zur selben Stund ein Antisemikolonbund. Die einzigen, die stumm entweichen wie immer , sind die Fragezeichen. Die Semikolons, die sehr jammern, umstellt man mit geschwungnen Klammern und setzt die so gefangnen Wesen noch obendrein in Parenthesen. Das Minuszeichen naht, und - schwapp! Comment schatten mitten im sommer vergass der vogel sein lied. Comment Never Give All The Heart Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kiss; For everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy.
O never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. And who could play it well enough If deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, For he gave all his heart and lost. William Butler Yeats — Comment The Mystic Blue Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping, Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping To sight, revealing a secret, numberless secrets keeping.
Sometimes the darkness trapped within a wheel Runs into speed like a dream, the blue of the steel Showing the rocking darkness now a-reel. And out of the invisible, streams of bright blue drops Rain from the showery heavens, and bright blue crops Surge from the under-dark to their ladder-tops. And all the manifold blue and joyous eyes, The rainbow arching over in the skies, New sparks of wonder opening in surprise. All these pure things come foam and spray of the sea Of Darkness abundant, which shaken mysteriously, Breaks into dazzle of living, as dolphins that leap from the sea Of midnight shake it to fire, so the secret of death we see.
Comment Summer Sun Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays. Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool, Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through. The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy's inmost nook. Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes. Ruhe, Friede, Stille chink: Comment Ottos Mops http: Comment SONNET LXVI Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And guilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill: Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
Gerade in Deutschland, aber auch in der Sowjetunion und im jiddischen Kulturraum, dienten die Shakespeare-Sonette bzw. Verdienst geht betteln hier im Staat. Comment America America I've given you all and now I'm nothing. Das Geheul und andere Gedichte von Allen Ginsberg. Comment Paradise Motel http: Tiefer neigt sich das Korn, der rote Mohn. Das alte Lied der Grille erstirbt im Feld. Ein Weiser mag mir manches erhellen; wo aber Ein Gott auch noch erscheint, Da ist doch andere Klarheit. Das ist, sie horen das Werk, Langst vorbereitend, von Morgen nach Abend, jetzt erst, Denn un- ermesslich brausst, in der Tief e verhallend, Des Donnerers Echo, das tausendjahrige Wetter, Zu schlaf en, iibertont von Friedens- lauten, hinunter.
Und manchen mocht' ich laden, aber o du, Der freundlichemst den Menschen zugethan, Dort unter syrischer Pahne, Wo nahe lag die Stadt, am Brunnen geme war; Das Komf eld rauschte rings, still athmete die Kiihlung Vom Schatten des geweihetenGebirges; I Und die lieben Freunde, das treue Gewolk, Umschatteten dich auch, damit der heiligkiihne Durch Wildniss mild dein Straal zu Menschen kam, o JiinglingI Ach' aber dunkler umschattete, mit- ten im Wort, dich I Furchtbarentscheidend ein todtlich Verhang- nis.
So ist schnell Verganglich alles Himmlische; aber umsonst nicht; Denn schonend riihrt des Maases allzeit kundig Nur einen Augenblick die Wohnimgen der Menschen Ein Gott an, imver- selm, und keiner weiss es, wenn? Auch dart alsdann das Freche driiber gehn Und kommen muss zum heilgen Ort das Wilde Von Enden fern, iibt rauhbetastend den Wahn, Und trif t daran ein Schicksal, aber Dank, Nie folgt der gleich hemach dem gott- gegebenen Geschenke; I Tiefpriif end ist es zu f assen.
Des Gottlichen aber empfiengen wir Doch viel. Und es lehret Gestim dich, das Vor Augen dir ist, doch nimnier kannst du ihm gleichen. Denn langst war der zum Herm der Zeit zu gross Und weit aus reichte sein Feld; wann hats ihn aber erschopfet?
Product details
Einmal mag aber ein Gott auch Tagewerk erwahlen, Gleich sterblichen und theilen alles Schicksal. Schicksalgesetz ist diss, dass alle sich erfahren, Dass, wenn die Stille kehrt, auch eine Sprache sei. I Wo aber wirkt der Geist, sind auch wir mit, und streiten, Was wohl das Beste sei. So diinkt mir jezt das Beste, Wenn nun vollendet sein Bild und fertig ist der Meister, Und selbst ver- klart davon aus seiner Werkstatt tritt, Der stille Gott der Zeit und nur der Liebe Gesez Das schonausgleichende gilt von hier an bis zum Himmel. Und das Zeitbild, das der grosse Geist entfaltet, Ein Zeichen liegts vor uns, das zwischen ihm und andem Ein Biindnis zwi- schen ihm und andem Machten ist.
Nicht er allein, die Uner- zeugten, Ew'gen Sind kennbar alle daran, gleichwie auch an den Pflanzen Zulezt ist aber doch, ihr heiligen Machte, fiir euch Das Liebeszeichen, das Zeugnis Dass ihrs noch seiet, der Festtag. So hast du manches gebaut, Und manches begraben, Denn es hasst dich, was Du, vor der Zeit Allkraftige, zum Lichte gezogen. Nun kennest, nun lassest du diss; I Denn gerne fiihllos ruht, Bis dass es reift, furchtsam- geschaftiges drunten. What here we are, far oflF a god amends With harmonies, everlasting recompense, and peace.
For a while, especially during his sojourn in Jena, he was subjected to Schiller's influence. In Leipzig he met Friedrich Schlegel and became deeply attached to him and his new ideas. After his graduation from the Wit- tenberg law school , he moved to Tennstedt, in Thuringia, to train for a pubHc post and met there in the thirteen-year-old Sophie von Kiihn with whom he fell in love. At her death the poet was imconsolable, and out of his grief sprang his Hymns to the Night in which he expressed a mystical death wish, granted soon there- after: In addition to the Hymns, considered a land- mark in the history of German poetry, Novahs wrote two lyrical novels— The Novices of Sais and Henry of Ofter- dingen, wherein the symboHc 'l lue flower" of the Roman- tics first blossomed— an essay, "Christianity or Europe," in which he glorified the medieval spirit, and finally his Spir- itual SongSy inspired by the rituals and festivals of the church and praising the Virgin Mary as the great symbol of the Infinite.
When numbers, figures, no more hold the key To solve the living creatures' mystery, When those who kiss and sing have knowledge more Than all the deeply learned scholars' store. And when in poesy and faerie Men read the world's eternal story, Then will a secret word obhge to flee All of this mad perversity. Gifted with feehng, Bestows not his love On the all-joyful light?
As life's inmost soul It is breathed By the giant world Of restless stars Who swim in its blue ocean. By the sparkling stone, The peaceful plant. By the creatures' Many-fashioned Ever-moving Hfe. It is breathed by the clouds Many-hued, by the zephyrs. And, above all, By the glorious strangers, With the thoughtful eyes. The swinging gait, And the sounding lips.
As a king It summons each power Of terrestrial nature To numberless changes, And alone doth its presence Reveal the full splendor Of earth. Sunk in deep vault; How dreary, forlorn her abode! Deep melancholy Stirs in the chords of the breast. Far oflF lies the world With its motley of pleasures. Elsewhere doth the Hght Pitch its airy encampment. What if it never returned To its faithful children, To its gardens In its glorious house? Yet what flows so cool.
So refreshing, So full of hid tidings To our hearts, And absorbs the soft air Of melancholy? Hast thou too A human heart, O dark Night? What boldest thou Under thy mantle Which steals unseen Upon my soul, Giving it strength? Thou seemest but fearful- Precious balm Drops from thy hand. From the bundle of poppies. In sweet intoxication Thou unfoldest the soul's heavy wings, And givest us joys Dark, inexpressible. Secret as thou, Joys which are promise of heaven.
How joyful and bless'd The departure of day. It is but because Night withdraws those who serve thee That thou sowest In the wide realms of space Shining spheres. To proclaim in the times of thine absence Thine omnipotence, Thy returning again. More heavenly than those flashing stars In those wide spaces, Seem to us the infinite eyes Which the Night In us opens. Farther see they Than the palest Of that numberless host.
They look through the depths Of a love-enfiUed heart Which fills with unspeakable joy A loftier space. Praise to the world's Queen! To the lofty proclaimer Of holy world, To the nurturer Of blissful love.
Foreign language fiction
The Night is here- Rapt away is my soul- Finished the earthly way. Once more art thou mine. I gaze into the depths of thy dark eyes. See naught but love and bhssfulness therein; We sink upon Night's altar. Must ever the morning return? Endeth never the thraldom of earth? Unhallowed aflFairs swallow up The heavenly coming of Night? Will never love's offering bum Eternal and hid? To the light was appointed its time, A time to its watching— But timeless the rule of the Night; Without end the duration of sleep.
Holy Sleepl Bless not too seldom Night's consecrated ones— In this earth's daily round. Only the foolish mistake thee And know of no sleep But the shadows, Which thou in compassion Castest upon us In that twilight Of the true Night. They feel thee not In the golden flood of the grape, In the almond tree's Magic oil, In the brown juice of the poppy. They know not It is thou That hoverest over the breast Of the tender maiden, And makest her bosom a heaven— They guess not That out of old histories Thou comest to meet us.
And bearest the key To the dwellings of the bless'd: A silent messenger Of infinite mysteries. Melancholy flowed into a new unfathomable world; thou, O inspiration of night, slumber of heaven, camest o'er me. All that lay round me softly arose, and above it hovered my unbound, newly bom spirit. As a dust cloud became the mound; through the cloud I beheld the glorified features of the Be- loved. In her eyes rested eternity. I grasped her hands and my tears became a sparkling indestructible cord.
Thousands of years drew away down into the distance as a thunder- storm. On her neck I wept enchanted tears for the new life. That was the first dream in thee. It passed, but its image remained— the eternal, imshakable behef in the heaven of night, and its sim, the Beloved. IV Now know I when the last morning will be— when the Hght will no longer scare away love and the night, when slumber will be eternal and only one inexhaustible dream.
Heavenly weariness deserts me now no more. Long and toilsome was the way to the Holy Sepulchre, and the Cross was heavy. He whose lips have once been moistened by the NOVALIS 61 crystal wave which, unseen by common sight, has its source in the dark womb of the mound at whose foot breaks the earthly tide, he who has stood above upon this boundary of the world, and has looked across into the new land, into the dwelling place of the night— he, of a truth, turns not back to the aflFairs of the world in the land where light holds sway, and eternal unrest makes its home.
Up above he builds himself tabernacles, dwellings of peace, he longs and loves, gazes across, until the most welcome of all hours draws him down into the wells of the foimt. All that is earthly floats on the surface, and is washed down from the heights; but what has become holy through contact of love runs released into hidden ways in yonder realm, where cloudlike it mingles with the slumber-wrapped loved ones. Still thou awakest The weary to work, O cheerful Light— Thou inspirest me with joyful life. But thou allurest me not From remembering That moss-grown monument.
Canst thou show me An ever-true heart? Has thy sun Friendly eyes Which know me? Do thy stars grasp My longing hand And give me in turn A tender pressure? Hast thou bedecked her With color And Hght outhne? Or was it she Who gave to thine adornment Higher and loveher meaning? What delight And what pleasures Offers thy life Which outweigh The enchantments of death? Doth not all that inspires us Bear the color of night?
She beareth thee as a mother. And to her thou dost owe All of thy splendor. Thou wouldst vanish Into thyself, Thou wouldst dissolve Into endless space Did she not hold thee— Not bind thee, So that thou grewest warm. And flaming Begottest the world. Verily I was, ere thou wert. Not yet have they ripened, Those thoughts of the gods.
As yet are the traces but few In our age. One day thy clock will depict The ending of time. When thou wilt become As one of us, And full of longing. Melt away and die. I discern thy removal In wild grief From our home. Thy resistance To the glorious Ancient heaven. In vain is thy fury. Indestructible Stands the Cross, Triumphant banner Of our race. I wander across And every pain Will turn to a pricking Of joy again.
Unending life Comes over me, And I look from above Down below upon thee. Thy brightness fades On that httle hill, A shade is bringing The chaplet cool. Beloved, Of me drink deep. That soon I be wrapped In eternal sleep. I feel death's encroaching. Youth-giving wave, And wait through life's stresses Full stalwart and brave. Over the widespread race Of man There formerly ruled An iron destiny. A dark and heavy band Lay round their Anxious souls.
Infinite was the earth, Abode of the gods And their home. Rich in treasures And glorious wonders. Since eternity Stood her mysterious frame. An ancient giant Supported the blissful world. And the befriended Joyful mankind. The dark blue depths Of the sea Was the womb of a goddess. Heavenly hosts Dwelt in joyful delight In the grottoes of crystal- Trees and brooks, Blossoms and beasts Had human sense; Sweeter tasted the wine. For a god in youthful bloom Gave it to man. The full sheaves Of golden com Were divinely bestowed; The rapturous joys of love A sacred service To heavenly beauty.
Thus was life An eternal festival Of gods and men. Only there was one thought Which frightful to the festive tables trod, And in wild panic fear all hearts enveiled. Here words of counsel even failed each god. Which with sweet comfort could their hearts have filled; Mysterious was this monster's dreadful road, Whose rage no gift, no anxious prayer availed— For it was Death, who this gay banquet scene Broke up in pain and tears and anguish keen.
Forever now from all things separated Which here do stir the heart in sweet delight— From loved ones parted, whom, down here, belated. Vain longings and an endless grief incite— Dull dream the lot to which the dead seemed fated, Unconscious struggling deemed their dreary plight. Broken and shattered was the wave of pleasure Upon the rock of misery without measure. With daring mind, and lofty feeling's zest, Did man embellish that grim mask unkind, A pale wan youth puts out the light to rest, Soft is the end, as harp strings touched by wind, And memory melts in shadow-flood at last: Thus poets eased the need of troubled mind.
Yet still unfathomed stayed eternal night. The solemn symbol of a far-off might. To its end inclined The ancient world. The happy garden Of the youthful race Withered away; Out into freer spaces Strove the full-grown, Unchildhke mankind. Laws arose, And in ideas As in dust and air Fell to pieces The measureless prime Of the thousandfold life. Fled away Were all-powerful faith And fantasy.
All-transforming, AU-imiting, Heavenly comrade. Unfriendly blew A cold north wind Over the frozen plains, And the wonderland home Passed away in the ether. The infinite distance Of heaven Was filled with shining worlds. Into a deeper sanctuary. Into the mind's higher realms. Drew the soul of the world With her powers.
There to reign Till the new day Should break. No longer was Hght The abode of the gods. And a heavenly token- Around them they drew The curtain of night. In the midst of mankind. In a folk Despised above all. Too soon grown ripe, And proudly estranged From the blessed innocence Of youth. Before all others Did the eastern wisdom, Rich flowering, full of foreseeing. Know the approach Of the new age. A star pointed the way To the King's humble cradle. In the name of the far future They paid him homage. With the splendor and perfumes Of the highest wonders of nature.
Unfolded the heavenly heart In sohtude To a glowing bosom of love, Turned toward The Father's lofty countenance, And resting on the holy foreboding breast Of the gracious earnest Mother. With worshiping ardor The prophetic eye Of the blossoming child Looked into future times. Soon the most childhke natures, Wondrously gripped By the almighty love.
A strange new life Flowered forth In his presence- Inexhaustible words. Most joyful of tidings. Fell hke sparks Of divine spirit From his gracious lips. Thou art that youthful form our tombs display Standing above them, deep in contemplation, ConsoHng emblem in our darkest day Of higher manhood's joyful new foundation.
What once had sunk us down, to grief a prey. Now draws us thence with longing's sweet elation. In Death was germ of hfe eternal found, Thyself art Death, and first doth make us sound. So that a thousand hearts Inchned themselves to him. And the glad gospel Upward waxed Branching a thousandfold. But yet short time After the singer passed, The precious life Became a sacrifice For the deep fall of man- Young in years he died, Tom away From the loved world, From the weeping Mother, From his friends.
The holy mouth Emptied the dark cup Of untold sorrow. In dreadful anguish Drew nigh to him the birth hour Of the new world. Hard wrestled he with the horrors Of ancient death. Heavy upon him lay The weight of the old world. Once more he gently looked upon the Mother- Then came the loosening hand Of eternal love— And he fell asleep.
Few were the days Hung a deep veil Over the roaring sea, over the dark heaving land. Uncounted tears Wept the beloved ones. Awaked to new godlike glory He ascended to the heights Of the rejuvenated, new-bom world. And the old world Which with him had died. With his own hand he bm'ied In the forsaken cave. And with almighty strength he laid above The stone which thence no power should ever move. Still weep thy loved ones Tears of joy, Tears of emotion.
And unending thanks Before thy grave— And ever still With shock of joy See thee ascend. Themselves with thee— See thee with ardor sweet Weep on the Mother's bosom And on the friends' true hearts. Hasten, filled with longing, Into the Father s arms, Bringing the young Childlike humanity And the inexhaustible draft Of the golden future. The Mother followed thee soon In heavenly tTiim: She was the first In the new home At thy side.
Long ages Have flowed by since then. Thousands from pain and grief Draw nigh to thee Full of faith, longing, And fidehty, And rule with thee And the heavenly Virgin In the kingdom of love. And serve in the temple Of the heavenly death. Uplifted is the stone. Mankind is now arisen, We chng to thee alone, And feel no bond of prison. Death to the marriage calls, The lamps are shining steady. The virgins all are ready, No lack of oil befalls. Far distances are ringing With tidings of thy train!
And stars the summons singing With human tongue and strain! To thee, Maria, lifteth Of thousand hearts the plea. Whose hfe in shadow drifteth They long to come to thee. Consumed with bitter pain, This dreary earth-world spuming. Have turned to thee again. Their aid to us was given When pain and want befell. We join them now in heaven And ever with them dwell. For none with faith who careth On grave need sorely grieve, The treasure that he loveth From him will none bereave. For angels true of heaven His heart in safety keep. His longing grief to leaven Inspireth night his sleep.
Our life with courage ending Eternal life draws near, With inner glow expanding Transfigured sense grows clear. The star-world now is flowing As living golden wine, Its joys on us bestowing, Ourselves as stars shall shine. For love is freely given And partings ne'er may be. The flood of life is driven Like an unbounded sea- Unending night delights us. And all the sim that lights us Is God's own countenance. Within a narrow boat we come And hasten to the heavenly home. All hail, then, to eternal night, All hail, eternal sleeping, Warmed have we been by daily light.
Withered by grief's long weeping. Strange lands no longer joys arouse. We want to reach our Father s house. In this world's hfe what shall we do With love and faith devoted? What should we care about the new?
The old is no more noted. Ohl lonely stands he, deeply sore. Whose love reveres the days of yore. The days of yore when, himian sense High flaming, brightly burning. The Father's hand and countenance Mankind was still discerning. Many of higher senses ripe Resembled still their prototype. The days of yore, when ancient stem Bore many youthful flowers. And children craved the heavenly home Beyond life's anguished hours. And e'en when hfe and pleasure spake Love caused full many a heart to break.
The days of yore, when God revealed Himself, young, ardent, glowing; To early death his life he sealed. Deep love and courage showing. Sparing himself no painful smart, He grew still dearer to our heart. We must repair to heavenly place If we would see those sacred days. What then doth hinder our return? The loved ones long have slumbered, Their grave enfolds our life's concern, With anxious grief we're cumbered.
We have no more to seek down here. The heart wants naught, the world is bare. Eternal and from hidden spring A sweet shower through us streameth; An echo of our grief did ring From distance far, meseemeth; The loved ones have the same desire. And with their longing us inspire. O downward then to Bride so sweetl To Jesus, the Beloved! A dream doth break our bonds apart. And sinks us on the Father's heart.
Abwarts wend ich mich Zu der heiligen, unaussprechlichen Geheimnis- vollen Nacht— Fernab liegt die Welt, Wie versenkt in eine tiefe Gruft, Wie wiist und einsam ihre Stelle! Tiefe Wehmut Weht in den Saiten der Bnist. I Fernab liegt die Welt Mit ihren bunten Geniissen. Muss immer der Morgen wieder kommen? Endet nie deS Irdi- schen Gewalt?
Zusam- men floss die Wehmut in eine neue unergriindUche Welt— du Nachtbegeisterung, Schliunmer des Himmels, kamst iiber mich. Die Gegend hob sich sacht empor— iiber der Gegend schwebte mein entbundner, neugebomer Geist. In ihren Augen ruhte die Ewigkeit— ich fasste ihre Hande, und die Tranen wurden ein funkelndes, unzerreissliches Band.
Jahrtausende zogen abwarts in die Feme, wie Ungewitter. An ihrem Halse weint'ich dem neuen Leben entziickende Tranen— das war der erste Traum in dir. Er zog voriiber, aber sein Abglanz blieb, der ewige, unerschiitterliche Glauben an den Nachthimmel und seine Sonne, die Geliebte. IV Nun weiss ich, wenn der letzte Morgen sein wird— wenn das Licht nicht mehr die Nacht und die Liebe scheucht, wenn der Schlummer ewig, und ein unerschopflicher Traum sein wird. Himmlische Miidigkeit verlasst mich nun nicht wieder.
Wessen Mund einmal die kristallene Woge netzte, die, gemeinen Sinnen unsichtbar, quillt in des Hiigels dunkelm Schoos, an dessen Fuss die irdische Flut bricht, wer oben stand auf diesem Grenzgebirge der Welt und hiniibersah in das neue Land, in der Nacht Wohnsitz; wahrlich, der kehrt nicht in das Treiben der Welt 2: Oben baut er sich Hiitten, Hiitten des Frie- dens, sehnt sich und liebt, schaut hiniiber, bis die willkommenste aller Stunden hinunter ihn— in den Brunnen der Quelle zieht.
AUes Irdische schwimmt obenauf und wird von der Hohe hinab- gespiilt, aber was heilig ward durch der Liebe Beriihrung, rinnt aufgelost in verborgnen Gangen auf das jenseitige Gebiet, wo es, wie Wolken, sich mit entschlummerten Lieben mischt. Aber du lockst mich Von der Erinnerung Moosigem Denkmal nicht. Kannst du mir zeigen Ein ewig treues Herz? Hat deine Sonne Freund- liche Augen, Die mich erkennen? Fassen deine Sterne Meine verlangende Hand? Geben mir wieder Den zartlichen Druck? Oder war sie es, Die deinem Schmuck Hohere, liebere Be- deutung gab?
Zu geben Menschlichen Sinn Deinen Schopfungen. Noch reiften sie nicht, Diese gottlichen Gedanken. Noch sind der Spuren Unsrer Gegenwart Wenig. Umsonst ist deine Wut, Dein Toben. Reich an Kleinoden Und herrlichen Wundern. Seit Ewigkeiten Stand ihr geheimnisvoller Ban. Ein alter Riese Trug die sehge Welt. Bald sammelten die kindlichsten Gemiiter, Von allmachtiger Liebe Wundersam ergriffen, j Sich um ihn her. Im Tode ward das ew'ge Leben kund, Du bist der Tod und machst uns erst gesund. Der Sanger zog Vol! Entsiegelt ward das Geheimnis. Gehoben ist der Stein. Die Menschheit ist erstanden.
Wir alle bleiben dein Und fiihlen keine Banden. So manche, die sich gliihend In bittrer Qual verzehrt Und dieser Welt entfliehend Nur dir sich zugekehrt; Die hilfreich uns erschienen In mancher Not und Pein— Wir konimen nun zu ihnen, Um ewig da zu sein. Nun weint an keinem Grabe Fiir Schmerz, wer liebend glaubt.
I Der Liebe siisse Habe Wird keinem nicht geraubt. I Wir kommen in dem engen Kahn Geschwind am Him- melsufer an. Wir miissen nach der Heimat gehn, Um diese heil'ge Zeit zu sehn. Was halt noch unsre Riickkehr auf— Die Liebsten ruhn schon lange. Ihr Grab schliesst unsern Lebenslauf, Nun wird uns weh und bange. Zu suchen haben wir nichts mehr— Das Herz ist satt, die Welt ist leer. Die Lieben sehnen sich wohl auch Und sandten uns der Sehn- sucht Hauch. Though all are faithless growing. Yet will I faithful be. That one on earth is showing His thankfulness to Thee.
For me Thou cam'st to suffer For me Thou had'st to smart. And now with joy I offer To Thee my thankful heart. Forgot and passed Thee by. With naught but love unsparing Thou cam'st for them and me. They let Thee die, uncaring. And thought no more of Thee. Yet true love ever winneth, At last the world will see. When weeping each one cHngeth, A child before Thy knee. When now at last I find Thee, O leave me not alone!
But ever closer bind me And let me be Thine ownl My brothers too, beholding, Will soon in Heav'n find rest. And then Thy love enfolding Will sink upon Thy breast. Wenn alle untreu werden, So bleib ich dir doch treu, Dass Dankbarkeit auf Erden Nicht ausgestorben sei. Oft muss ich bitter weinen, Dass du gestorben bist Und mancher von den Deinen Dich lebenslang vergisst.
Von Liebe nur durchdrungen, Hast du so viel getan, Und doch bist du verklungen, Und keiner denkt daran. Ich habe dich empfunden, OI lasse nicht von mir; Lass innig mich verbunden Auf ewig sein mit dir. So heavy grows our cheer. When all from far o'erpowers Our hearts with ghostly fear. There come wild terrors creeping With stealthy silent tread, And night's dark mantle sweeping O'erweighs the soul with dread. Our pillars strong are shaking. No hold remaineth sure, Our thoughts in whirlpools breaking Obey our will no more.
Then madness comes and claims us And none withstands his will, A senses' dullness maims us, The pulse of life stands still. Who raised the Cross, bestowing A refuge for each heart? Who lives in heaven all-knowing And healeth pain and smart? Go thou where stands that Wonder And to thy heart give ear. His flames shall force asunder And quell thy nightmare fear. An angel bendeth o'er thee And bears thee to the strand. And, filled with joy, before thee Thou seest the Promised Land. Der Wahnsinn naht und locket Unwiderstehlich bin.
Der Puis des Lebens stocket, Und stumpf ist jeder Sinn. Wer hat das Kreuz erhoben Zum Schutz f iir jedes Herz? Wer wohnt im Himmel droben Und hilft in Angst und Schmerz? Ein Engel zieht dich wieder Gerettet auf den Strand, Und schaust vol! Freuden nieder I In das Gelobte Land. When in sad and weary hour Dark despair hath cast its gloom; When overwhelmed by sickness' power Fears our inmost soul consume; When we think of our beloved Bowed with sorrow and with grief; All our heav'ns with clouds are covered Not one hope can bring relief.
God then bendeth to receive us. With his love he draweth near; When we long for life to leave us Then his angel doth appear; Brings the cup of life, restoring Strength and comfort from above; Not in vain our prayers imploring Peaceful rest for those we love. Brentano seems to have inherited the restlessness and effervescence of both the Brentanos and the Laroches. His interest was probably stimu- lated by Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry.
In Brentano married the poetess Sophie M6reau but she died only three years later. His second marriage was unhappy, and he drifted, in the course of time, toward the pious eighteen-year-old Luise Hensel, whom he wooed in vain and who brought him back to the Catholic fold His hterary activities then came to an end, save for recording the visions of the stigmatized nun Anna Katharina Emmerick. Brentano's claim to immortality rests primarily on his sweetly cadenced lyrics and his tales, such as "The Story of the Just Casper and Fair Annie" , rich in the imaginative charm of folklore.
Shall touch no child to grieve it. Simplicity hath sown the seeds, Sadness passed through it with its breath. And longing has achieved it. And is the harvest once cut down, Poverty gleans the stubble, Seeks ears that have been left unseen. Seeks love that for her long went down. Seeks love with her to rise again. Seeks love that it may love her.
And has she, lonely and disdained. Throughout the night with prayer and thanks Rubbed the corn from its casing- She reads, at cockcrow's break of day, Words that hold love, blow grief away. Upon the field cross written: O echo, tell Where Hstenest thou Who understands my lay? O echoing sound, O singst thou her The dreams I Hke the most. The ballads all bring them her Whom I so early losti Deep in my heart The rustling wood Wherein my love doth stray; In sorrows slept The echoing sound. The tunes have blown away. In woodland am 1 so alone, O dearest, come to me; Though many a song Away has flown.
For everything goes by! Yet that I rose again And as her planet e'er must circle round, A spirit, whom she charmed, That goes not byl Yes, everything goes by! Only this wonder-band From out my being's deepest ground To her own spirit spanned, That goes not by! Yes, everything goes byl Yet pledge from gracious hands. Each innocent dear word of hers Follow to other lands And go not by!
Yes, everything goes by! Yet she, who understood The waiting one, with place and hour unfomid. She went not by, she stood, Gives me her hand! Yes, everything goes byl One thing alone is sure, The promise which from out her heart's deep groimd The precious child did send, That doth endure! Denn alles geht vorbeil Doch dass ich auferstand Und wie ein Irrstern ewig sie umrunde, Ein Geist, den sie gebannt, Das hat Bestandl Ja, alles geht vorbei!
And the fountains plash and glistenl Music drifts in golden rains; Softly, softly let us listenl Gentle-pleading, mild desire Sweetly tells the heart its plightl Through the darkness, bright as fire, Gleams upon me— music's light. Golden wehn die Tone nieder, Stille, stille, lass uns lau- schen! Holdes Bitten, mild Verlangen, Wie es siiss zum Herzen spricht!
It told a sweeter tale When our two hearts were one. I sing; I cannot weep; I turn my wheel, and there The strand gleams pure and clear While moonbeams vigil keep. When our two hearts were one. Of joy sang the nightingale; Now all its changeful tale Is but that thou art gone. God yield us joy again! Since thou from me art gone, The ceaseless nightingale sings And restless memories brings Of how two hearts made one.
God yield us joy! No sleep Is mine; I spin while here Moonlight streams pure and clear. I sing; I fain would weep. Ich sing' und kann nicht weinen Und spinne so allein [ Den Faden, klar und rein, So lang der Mond wird scheinen. Da wir zusammen waren, Da sang die Nachtigall, Nun mah- net mich ihr Schall, Dass du von mir gefahren.
Gott woUe uns vereinen, [ Hier spinn' ich so allein, Der Mond scheint klar und rein, Ich sing' und mochte weinen! Learn its cadence from the moon. Slow in heaven drifting by. Bees about the honeysuckle, Silver springs upon the gravel Mumble, murmur, whisper, trickle. World-mystery That gladly welcomes Friendship with me! When the red of the evening has sunken. And no color speaks joyfully now. And the garlands of quiet gleaming sparkles Night binds round her shadowing brow, Wafts holy meaning Of heavenly star To me in the distance.
When the tears of the moon softly soothing Release the nights' deep hidden pain, Peace breathes anew. And on little barks golden Sail spirits along on the heavenly main. Radiant ballad's Resonant flow Undulates upward. All things profound, melancholic appear. Fhts in the darkling Friendliest play.
Tranquil hghts sparkling Bright goal display. Kindly and friendly is each bound with other. Trustfully, comforting, offers the hand. Lights have entwined through the dark nights together, All things forever are inwardly bound. In goldenen Kahnen Schiffen die Geister im himmlischen See. Alles ist freundlich wohlwollend verbunden, Bietet sich tros- tend und traurend die Hand, Sind durch die Nachte die Lichter gewunden, Alles ist ewig im Innem verwandt.
Every year thy loving boimty Brings men's hearts and earth good morrow. Every year the flowers thou wakest, Wak'st in me the ancient sorrow. Bom for light alone intended, I a thousand times must perish. Lacking thee my way has ended. Lost unless thy goodness cherish. When soft sun-filled airs are wafting And earth stirs in warm pulsation, Then stir too those other waters Bound with death and tribulation. And within my heart there shower Bitter founts, beclouded growing; When without the springtime hovers. Comes the fear-flood to fresh flowing.
Through poison's earthy layers. As in time they've ever mounted. The deep gorge I have constructed And but feeble 'tis accounted I When the soil to birth is bringing. When all round the springs are swelling, Hither come the bitter breakers Though no wit, no curse compeUing. For in me there mounts the Deluge Fills my eyes, enraged and ruthless. Evil breeds then come before me, Seem as lambs in motley ghtter.
Which I greeted, fruits of sweetness, But which ripened, gall-hke bitter. Lord, bestow on me thy mercy. And my heart-life newly fashion! For of all the earthly springtimes None has ever shown compassion. Master, when they all draw near thee, In their hands the sweet-filled vessels. Ne'er with bitter gifts down-laden Can my debt to thee be settled. Ah, however deep I burrow. Scoop the waters, tears o'erflovnng, Never can I cleanse the torrent Till pure crystal ground is showingi Ever do the walls assail me. Lies in every layer merging. And my hands with labor bleeding Bum within the bitter surging.
Woel the space forever narrows. Waves grow wilder still and rougher. Lord, O Lordl my heart doth fail me— Send thy rainbow with its succor. Lord, I beg of thee to spare me! Lord, they were telling That a wonderful salvation In thy blood is ever dwelling. Eirnnal nur zum Licht geboren, Aber tausendmal gestorben, Bin ich ohne dich verloren, Ohne dich in mir verdorben. Denn in mir ja steigt die grimme Siindflut, bricht aus meinen Augen. Herr, erbarme du dich meiner, Dass mein Herz neu bliihend werdel Mein erbarmte sich noch keiner Von den Friihlingen der Erde.
Weh, der Raum wird immer enger, Wilder, wiister stets die Wogen; Herr, o Herr, ich treibs nicht langer— Schlage deinen Regenbogenl Herr, ich mahne dich: Herr, ich hort in jungen Tagen, Wunderbare Rettung wohne— Ach! Und so muss ich zu dir schreien, Schreien aus der bittern Tief e, I Konntest du auch nie verzeihen, Dass dein Knecht so kiihnlich riefe. Longs the butterfly for sunlight It must break its woven mansion; So art thou this house destroying That my freedom find expansion.
Such a death I pray thou grant me, Lord! Grant that, senses clear, I give my Soul again within thy keeping! For within thy hands are lying Hearts with humble meekness glowing Like the infant in the cradle Tranquil sleeping, grief unknowing! Full many a man around her To grievous shame she brought; No more could he be rescued Who in her toils was caught. The bishop sent to bid her Before his court appear; Yet must he grant her pardon She was so passing fair. He spoke to her with tremors, "Thou poor young Lore Lay, Who then has thus misled thee To evil sorcery?
My lover hath betrayed me. From me hath turned away, Gone forth on distant journey In foreign land doth stray. Eyes that are wild and timid, The red and white in cheeks. Words sounding quiet and gentle, My magic circle makes. Then let my judgment find me. As Christian let me die; For everything is empty Since he's no longer by. Thou now shalt be a novice.
In black and white a nun; On earth thou shalt prepare thee For when Hfe's days are done! All three the knights go by. And sadly in the middle The lovely Lore Lay. Once more I'd see the castle. Where my dear love did dwell. Once more to look I'm longing Into the deep Rhine flood.
Then will I to the convent And virgin be of God. Precipitous its face, Yet climbed she to the summit And stood at topmost place. Then up above they clambered And rocky summit reached. Then said the maid: Nor could the knights from summit Descend their lives to save, Up there they all must perish. With neither priest nor grave. And who has sung this ditty? As were the three my own. All boatmen passing by call out to it and enjoy the many echoes. Wer hat dies Lied gesungen? I Lore Layl Lore Lay! Als waren es meiner drei.
He attended the Catholic school at Breslau and the university at Halle, in obtaining a law degree from Heidelberg. After a visit to Paris he lived in Vienna and there qualified for the civil service; he married Luise von Larisch in and occupied responsible offices in Danzig, Konigs- berg, and Berlin Following his retirement he devoted himself exclusively to his literary pursuits.
Heine called Eichendorff "the last knight of Romanticism," and indeed he was the last to sing in misty verse of wonderful melody and magic of the ancient castles of the Danube, of sighing forests and murmuring streams; and his tales, which include the delightful "Memoirs of a Good-for-Nothing" , have the same richness of mood and expression. And now along the vale Wakens the nightingale Till a gray hush again spreads over.
O wonder-filled nocturnal song, Far hidden waters whisper long. Trees shiver as the moonlight gleams— Under the spell you cast My wandering song is lost And like a calling-out of dreams. From earth a dreamlike rustle rises Through all its trees and tantalizes The heart with strangeness half-confessed. Times that are gone, griefs grovra weaker; Faint shiverings are felt and flicker Like summer lightning through the breast.
As though at this selfsame hour Round the ramparts, now half -sunken, The gods made their ancient tour. Here, hid by the myrtle's splendor In the stealthy dwindling light. What jumbled dream words dost thou utter To me, mysterious Night? The stars are all sparkling on me. With ardent and loving gaze. From afar comes elated message As of joy in the coming days. And sinks into sleep once more. But the forest is stirring the treetops, In dream of the precipice grand. For the Lord goes over the sunmiit And blesses the silent land. Von fern nur schlagen die Glocken 0ber die Walder herein, Ein Reh hebt den Kopf erschrocken Und schlummert gleich wie- der ein.
Fine gentlemen and students all, They tread the sunny highway And on their horns they play their call. And face the world with cloudless brow: We play our tune before the door— Which always doubles thirsting— And through the happy portal pour Since our dry throats are biursting. Innkeeper, bring us each a fine Tankard of beer, or glass of wine. Our fluttering capes in rags will fall. Our thin shoes drag on highway. But on our horns we'll play our call. Our taunting, scornful, wry way: Et habeat bonam pacem Qui sedet post fornacem! Beatus ille homo, Qui sedet in sua domo Et sedet post fornacem Et habet bonam pacem!
The summer-wearied earth, her blossoms going, Fills full the grapes with her last fiery glowing. The sun still scatters sparks the while he's sinking. And gives once more to earth his fire for drinking, Till, to bring passion s prey her calm wing under, Star upon star comes night in all her wonder. Now dream of heaven must. The breeze passed through the com fields. The ears made movements sHght, The forest rustled gently.
So star-clear was the night. My soul stretched forth her pinions, And spread them wide to roam, Flew through the silent landscapes As if she flew toward home. And the world breaks forth in singing. Once the magic word is found. They but bring confusion here In the waves' soft undulations.
Wishes are like clouds, I find, Ships through silent spaces roving, Who can say in stealthy wind Whether thoughts or dreams are moving? Now I close my lips and heart. Saving stars from lamentations. Gently still in depths of heart Live the waves' soft undulations. Leise doch im Herzensgrund Bleibt das linde Wel- lenschlagen.
Earth sleeps, the boughs half stripped where foliage sprang. Hushed are the songs that late so sweetly rang, And winter covers all with gloomy weather.