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LEOPOLD, DUKE OF BRUNSWICK.

1785.

THOU wert forcibly seiz’d by the hoary lord of the river,—
Holding thee, ever he shares with thee his streaming domain.
Calmly sleepest thou near his urn as it silently trickles,
Till thou to action art rous’d, wak’d by the swift-rolling flood.
Kindly be to the people, as when thou still wert a mortal,
Perfecting that as a god, which thou didst fail in, as man.

TO THE HUSBANDMAN.

SMOOTHLY and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is cover’d;
Yet will a deeper one, friend, cover thy bones at the last.
Joyously plough’d and sow’d! Here food all living is budding,
E’en from the side of the tomb Hope will not vanish away.

ANACREON’S GRAVE.

HERE where the roses blossom, where vines round the laurels are twining,
Where the turtle-dove calls, where the blithe cricket is heard,
Say, whose grave can this be, with life by all the Immortals
Beauteously planted and deck’d?—Here doth Anacreon sleep!
Spring and summer and autumn rejoic’d the thrice-happy minstrel,
And from the winter this mound kindly hath screen’d him at last.

THE BRETHREN.

SLUMBER and Sleep, two brethren ordain’d by the gods to their service,
Were by Prometheus implor’d, comfort to give to his race;
But though so light to the gods, too heavy for man was their burden,
We in their slumber find sleep, we in their sleep meet with death.

MEASURE OF TIME.

EROS, what mean’st thou by this? In each of thine hands is an hourglass!
What, O thou frivolous god! twofold thy measure of time?
Slowly run from [Editor: illegible word] the hours of lovers when parted;
While through the other they rush swiftly, as soon as they meet.”

WARNING.

WAKEN not Amor from sleep! The beauteous urchin still slumbers;
Go, and complete thou the task, that to the day is assign’d!
Thus doth the prudent mother with care turn time to her profit,
While her babe is asleep, for ’twill awake but too soon.

SAKÓNTALA.

WOULD’ST thou the blossoms of spring, as well as the fruits of the autumn,
Would’st thou what charms and delights, would’st thou what plenteously feeds,
Would’st thou include both heaven and earth in one designation,
All that is needed is done, when I Sakóntala name.

SOLITUDE.

O ye kindly nymphs, who dwell ’mongst the rocks and the thickets,
Grant unto each whatsoe’er he may in silence desire!
Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction,
And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves.
For from the gods ye receiv’d what they ever denied unto mortals,
Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.

THE CHOSEN CLIFF.

HERE in silence the lover fondly mus’d on his lov’d one;
Gladly he spake to me thus: “Be thou my witness, thou stone!
Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions;
Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell,
Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, as onward I ramble,
‘Be thou a sign of my bliss!’ shout I, and then ’tis ordain’d.
Yet to thee only I lend a voice, as a Muse from the people
Chooseth one for herself, kissing his lips as a friend.”

THE CONSECRATED SPOT.

WHEN in the dance of the Nymphs, in the moonlight so holy assembl’d,
Mingle the Graces, down from Olympus in secret descending,
Here doth the minstrel hide, and list to their numbers enthralling,
Here doth he watch their silent dances’ mysterious measure.
All that is glorious in heaven, and all that the earth in her beauty
Ever hath brought into life, the dreamer awake sees before him;
All he repeats to the Muses, and lest the gods should be anger’d,
How to tell of secrets discreetly, the Muses instruct him.

THE INSTRUCTORS.

WHEN Diogenes quietly sunn’d himself in his barrel,
When Calanus with joy leap’d in the flame-breathing grave,
Oh, what noble lessons were those for the rash son of Philip,
Were not the lord of the world e’en for instruction too great!

THE UNEQUAL MARRIAGE.

EVEN this heavenly pair were unequally match’d when united:
Psyche grew older and wise, Amor remain’d still a child.

EXCUSE.

THOU dost complain of woman for changing from one to another?
Censure her not: for she seeks one who will constant remain.

THE MUSE’S MIRROR.

EARLY one day, the Muse, when eagerly bent on adornment,
Follow’d a swift-running streamlet, the quietest nook by it seeking.
Quickly and noisily flowing, the changeful-surface distorted
Ever her moving form; the goddess departed in anger.
Yet the stream call’d mockingly after her, saying: “What, truly!
Wilt thou not view, then, the truth, in my mirror so clearly depicted?”
But she already was far away, on the brink of the ocean,
In her figure rejoicing, and duly arranging her garland.

PHŒBUS AND HERMES.

DELOS’ stately ruler, and Maïa’s son, the adroit one,
Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain.
Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim’d by Apollo,
Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish’d by hope.
For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive,
Dashing in twain the gold toy, brandishing wildly his sword.
Hermes, malicious one, laugh’d beyond measure; yet deep-seated sorrow
Seiz’d upon Phœbus’s heart, seiz’d on the heart of each Muse.

THE NEW AMOR.

AMOR, not the child, the youthful lover of Psyche,
Look’d round Olympus one day, boldly, to triumph inur’d;
There he espied a goddess, the fairest amongst the immortals,—
Venus Urania she,—straight was his passion inflam’d.
Even the holy one powerless prov’d, alas! ’gainst his wooing,—
Tightly embrac’d in his arm, held her the daring one fast.
Then from their union arose a new, a more beauteous Amor,
Who from his father his wit, grace from his mother derives.
Ever thou’lt find him join’d in the kindly Muses’ communion,
And his charm-laden bolt foundeth the love of the arts.

THE GARLANDS.

KLOPSTOCK would lead us away from Pindus; no longer for laurel
May we be eager—the homely acorn alone must content us;
Yet he himself his more-than-epic crusade is conducting
High on Golgotha’s summit, that foreign gods he may honor!
Yet, on what hill he prefers, let him gather the angels together,
Suffer deserted disciples to weep o’er the grave of the just one:
There where a hero and saint hath died, where a bard breath’d his numbers,
Both for our life and our death an ensample of courage resplendent
And of the loftiest human worth to bequeath,—ev’ry nation
There will joyously kneel in devotion ecstatic, revering
Thorn and laurel garland, and all its charms and its tortures.

THE SWISS ALPS.

YESTERDAY brown was still thy head, as the locks of my lov’d one,
Whose sweet image so dear silently beckons afar.
Silver-gray is the early snow to-day on thy summit,
Through the tempestuous night streaming fast over thy brow.
Youth, alas, throughout life as closely to age is united
As, in some changeable dream, yesterday blends with to-day.

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Antiques - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

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Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.

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