Dunkle Schwingen (German Edition)

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Bellarmin Mit dem Gefahrten? Was bleibet aber, stiften die Dichter. But where danger is, there Arises salvation also. In darkness dwell The eagles, and fearless across the abyss Go the sons of the Alps On hghtly built bridges. Therefore, since all round are upheaped The summits of time. And those that dwell nearest in love Must languish on uttermost mountains, Give us then innocent water, pinions give us, to pass Over with constant minds and again return.

So I spoke, when swifter Than I had fancied, and far. Whither I never had thought to come, A Genius bore me away From my house. In the twilight The shadowy woods darkened as I went And the yearning brooks of my home; No more did I know these lands. Yet soon in fresh radiance. Mysterious In the golden smoke. Swiftly sprung up With the tread of the sun, Asia bloomed out before me. But high in the light Blossoms the silver snow, And, witness to life everlasting. On attainless walls The immemorial ivy grows, and upborne Upon living columns of cedars and laurels Are the solemn, The divinely built palaces.

But about Asia's portals. Running hither and thither In hazardous wastes of sea Ripple shadowless ways enough, Yet the seaman knoweth the isles. Yet bountiful In the needier house Is she nonetheless. And when out of shipwreck or in Lament for his home Or the departed friend. One of the strangers Draws near to her, she hears it with joy, And her children.

The voices of the warm glade And the rock-dwelling breezes And the rocks too, they hear him, and lovingly The echo rings out to the lament of the man. And the watchful man viewed well The face of the god As, at the mystery of the vine. They sat together, at the hour of the banquet, And quietly prescient in his great soul The Lord spake death and the last love; For never enough Had he of words for telling of kindness At that time, and gladdening.

When he saw it, the wrath of the world. For all things are good. Of that There were much to be said. And the friends saw How he gazed forth victorious, The most joyful of all, at the last. Yet they mourned, as now It was grown evening, astounded, For in their souls the men weighed A mighty decision, but they loved Life under the sun, and they would not leave The face of the Lord and their homeland. Inwrought was that As fire in the iron, and at their side Went the shadow of the Beloved.

Therefore he sent them The Spirit, and the house trembled. And the storm of God Rolled far-thundering over their fateful heads. Where brooding Were gathered the heroes of death Now as he, in departure, Once more appeared before them. No good Had it been later, cleaving abruptly And truthless, the work of man, and it was joy From now on To dwell in loving night and maintain Steadfast in simple eyes Abysses of wisdom.

And deep On the mountains too Living images flourish. Yet it is dreadful how far and wide God endlessly scatters the living. Dreadful it is to leave The face of dear friends and to wander Far over the mountains alone. When the Heavenly Spirit, Known before in communion, Was single in meaning; and though it was never foretold them, Yet by their very Hair did it seize them. As, hastening away into the distance, God of a sudden looked back, and conjuring Him to remain, naming the evil, Bounden henceforth as with golden cords. They gave one another their hands. It is the cast of the Sower, as he seizes The wheat with his spade And flings across to the clear grain.

Driving it over the threshing floor. The husks fall at his feet, But in the end cometh the com. And no evil it is if something Is lost and the living sound Fades from our speech, For heavenly labor is like to our own. The Highest would not have AH at one time. So long as the pit bear iron. And Etna ghttering resin, So I have riches To fashion an image and see in the semblance Christ as he had been. But when one spurred himself on, And sadly speaking on the way where I was weaponless. Overpowered me, so that I marveled and an impostor Would be moulding an image of God- Visible in anger did I once See the sovereigns of heaven.

Not that I were To become anything, but to learn. Kindly they are, but most Hateful to them as long as they reign Is falsehood, as there dwells Himianity then no more among men. For they do not reign, rather Fate Reigns more immortally. And when ascends higher The heavenly pageant of triumph. The exulting Son of the Most High, Like to the sun itself, is named by the mighty An emblem, and here is the staff Of song signaling down. For nothing is common. It wakens the dead Who are not yet caught by the rawness of death. But many shy eyes Wait to behold the Hght.

They would not Blossom forth in the sharp radiance. Though the golden bridle guideth their courage. But when, As from swelHng eyebrows Forgetful of the world. Quietly shining strength falls From the Holy Scriptures, Rejoicing in grace They yield themselves to calm vision.

"vaulted" translation into German

Quiet is his sign In the thimderous sky. And One stands beneath it His life long. For Christ Hves yet. But the heroes, his sons. All are come and the Holy Scriptures From him, and the deeds of the earth Have illumined the hghtning till now, A contest unwaning. But he is there. For his works Are known to him from everlasting.

Too long, too long already Has the glory of the Blessed been viewless. For each of the Blessed demand sacrifice. Yet if one were passed over Ne'er did it bring about good. We have served the earth our mother And of late we have served The light of the sim Unwittingly, but the Father who rules over all Loves best that the constant Letter be fostered, And enduring existence Interpreted well. With this is accordant The song of my people. Wo aber Gefahr ist, wachst I Das Rettende auch. So sprach ich, da entfiihrte Mich schneller, denn ich vermutet I Und weit, wohin ich nimmer Zu kommen gedacht, ein Genius mich Vom eigenen Haus.

Denn alles ist gut. Vieles ware Zu sagen davon. Und es griinen Tief an den Bergen auch lebendige Bilder. Doch furchtbar ist, wie da und dort Unendlich hin zerstreut das Lebende Gott. Nicht alles will der Hochste zumal. Zwar Eisen traget der Schacht, Und glii- hende Harze der Atna, So hatt ich Reichtum, Ein Bild zu bil- den, und ahnlich Zu schaun, wie er gewesen, den Christ, Wenn aber einer spornte sich selbst, Und traurig redend, un- terweges, da ich wehrlos ware, Mich iiberfiele, dass ich staunt und von dem Gotte Das Bild nachahmen mocht ein Knecht— Im Zome sichtbar sah' ich einmal Des Himmels Herm, nicht, dass ich sein soUt etwas, sondern Zu lernen.

Giitig sind sie, ihr Verhasstestes aber ist, Solange sie herrschen, das Falsche, und es gilt I Dann Menschliches unter Menschen nicht mehr. Denn sie nicht walten, es waltet aber Unsterblicher Schicksal und es wandelt ihr Werk Von selbst und eilend geht es zu Ende. Die Toten wecket Er auf, die noch getangen nicht Vom Rohen sind. Es warten aber Der scheuen Augen viele Zu schauen das Licht. Still ist sein Zei- chen I Am donnernden Himmel. Und Einer stehet daninter Sein Leben lang. Denn noch lebt Christus. Er ist aber dabei.

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Denn seine Werke sind Ihm alle bewusst von jeher. Zu lang, zu lang schon ist Die Ehre der Himmlischen unsicht- bar. Dem f olgt deutscher Gesang. Ripened the fruit, in fire cast, baked And tried on the earth, and it is the law That all go back into it, like snakes, Prophetic, dreaming on The hills of the heavens. And there is so much Like a burden Of logs on the shoulders That has to be borne. Though the roads Are not right. For discrepant, As horses, go the tethered Elements and the immemorial Laws of the earth.

And ever A longing strains after the fetterless. But there is so much That has to be borne. And one must be true. Let us look not before, though, Nor after. May we be rocked, rather, as A boat is cradled at sea. Aber bos sind Die Pfade. Und immer Ins Ungebundene gehet eine Sehnsucht. Vieles aber ist Zu behalten. Und Noth die Treue. Vorwarts aber und riikwarts woUen wir [ Nicht sehn. Uns wiegen lassen, wie Auf schwankem Kahne der See. Voices calmly wending filled And aired is the ancient Bliss-wont hall; fragrant above green carpets floats The happy cloud, stand gleaming wide, Of ripest fruit abundant, and of golden-wreathed bowls.

Well meted out, resplendent rows Uprising here and there aside of the Smoothed ground, the tables. For, coming from afar Hither, at eventide, Loving guests have bid themselves. Dawn fills my eyes. Well-nigh I deem This celebration's prince. Him, to behold That smiles upon a day's great labor: Although you will deny your strangeness And, wearied by your glorious course, Cast down your eyes, forgotten, softly shaded.

And will take on a friendly shape, O Widely Known, Yet bends the knees your awe. Nothing outstrips you; But this I know: Wisdom may show me many a thing, but Where a god enters as well A more luminous day wiU break. Yet not xmheralded he comes: And he whom neither flame nor flood deterred Need not be vainly startled by this stillness, now That neither man nor spirit yields to order. Downstream to sleep, at the sounding of peace. But, days endeared of innocence, you also bring Today, O loved ones, the celebration, and The spirit blossoms in this quiet round; And hasten forth I must, although, O friends, my locks are gray, an eternal youth Preparing the wreaths for the feast.

And many a one I would gladly ask; but you. Concerned, stem but friendly, for mankind, who Far off beneath Syrian palms, Close by that city, would sit by the well: The com fields mstled, quietly the cool Air breathed in the shade of the sacred mountains. So did loving friends shade you, Like faithful clouds tempering Your rays cast toward man.

A mortal doom, amidst your words, was to fold A darker shade around you, dreadful fate. So transient Is what Heaven proffers; but not in vain therefore, For but lightly a god will touch, knowing What are our limits, the human abode. Nor can we reckon the moment. Then, too, Hcense may walk unleashed, Blasphemers shall reach the holy spot From distant parts, exercising their frenzy To strike at a fate; yet gratitude Does not come straight in the wake of divine gifts: It must be won through ordeal.

Had not the giver been thrifty always, Surely the sacred treasures of our hearth Would have turned all to destruction. Even so, much was granted us from above. And the shores, and the floods of the sea. Before your eyes the stars Teach you, who shall never become their equal.

Of the eternally living, however. Whence joy flows, and song, One came, a son, valiantly calm. And now we behold him. Knowing his father, now That, to hold his celebration. The high Spirit of the World Has descended toward us. Too great he was to be the lord of ages; Too far his realm to be ever exhausted. Even so, one day a god may choose labor To be like the mortals, sharing their fate.

For it is decreed that all shall recognize each other. And language hold sway once silence has returned. Yet where the Spirit liveth we venture forth. Contending for the best. Thus I judge it best —When the painter has at last achieved his likeness And stepped, masterful, from his workshop, lord of love only— That equity reign All the way from earth to heaven. Man has experienced much since the dawn. Ever since speech began, and mutual notice; But song follows apace.

And the vision of time, divinely unfolding.

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Sign of the Spirit, lies before us, bonds of aUiance Fastening his might to the powers of nature. Not him alone, but the unborn generations This token proves: Yet as a final token, O holy powers, This very day of celebration testifies For you, a mark of love. You, unforgettable one, at time's decline, Our celebration's youthful prince. No sooner wiU This race lie down imtil You, promised ones, each single one Of you, immortal beings, to pronounce Your heaven's bounties, have arrived In our house.

Fragrant breezes Are your herald. The steaming downs announce you And the ground, still resounding with tempests. Now the cheek is refreshed with hope And in front of the opened bouse The mother sits with her child. Regarding this utter peace. And fewer seem the agonies.

A harbinger has caught the soul, A promise sent, of golden light. Keeping the aged from dying. Well wrought from above are The savors of life. For all is pleasing now, But most of all Simphcity: This, nothing else, is the shape of gods. You grieved, O Mother, like The Honess when. Nature, You lost your children. Too eagerly loving, you suffered their loss. When robbed of them by a foe Whom you almost took for your own son, A satyr mingling with gods.

Thus you did much of your building And buried many a thing. For you are hated by those whom You, powerful beyond time. Had drawn forth into hght. Now you know and, knowing, relax: For gladly rests down below. So it may ripen, the anxiously caring world. Denn feme kommend haben Hieher, zur Abendstunde, Sich liebende Gaste beschieden. Nichts vor dir, [ Nur Fines weiss ich, Sterbliches bist du nicht. 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? 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. 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.

Volker Ferkau

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.