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"The poet is the heart of the world." ~Eichendorff
Hardly
anyone has heard of Joseph von Eichendorff (1788-1857) these days; his works are currently out of print - in English, at least,
- which is a great shame!! As a lyric poet, he ranks up there with Goethe and Heine; he had a unique ability to take
simplest words and fill them with feelings of unbelievable depth, and music too.
His poems are all seemingly simple, with the same
openness and sincerity that characterizes the German folksongs; the content, with its reoccuring images, appears to border
on naive. What makes all the difference is how Eichendorff presents the content: everything turns into a melodious
stream of words, and the images become symbols of the inner yearning for the infinite, the search for some fleetimg moment
of bliss and fulfillment. Music makes his poetry; without it - in translation - the lyrics seem flat and the heart-aching
beauty of the original is gone. Some do manage to 'survive' quite nicely, like "Moonlit Night"; others, like "Melancholy II",
lose all. The German landscape paintings below are by
Caspar David Friedrich, the fitting illustrations, if you will, to the moods and feelings in the poems.
My translations are: "Melancholy II", "Good Night",
"Bewitching Look", and "Come, comfort of the world...". Translation of "Night" is by John Bernhoff (perhaps the only rhymed
English translation I've seen that stays so faithful to the original). Translation of "At Gloaming" is by William Mann; the
rest are by Robert A. Jordan.
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In a Foreign Land
From home, behind the red lightning-flashes
Come the
clouds,
But father and mother are long dead;
No one there knows me any more.
How soon, oh how
soon will the quiet time come
When I also shall rest, and above me
The beautiful solitude of the forest will
rustle
And no one here will know me any more.
*[poem in the original]*
In der Fremde
Aus der Heimat hinter den Blitzen rot
Da kommen die Wolken her,
Aber Vater
und Mutter sind lange tot,
Es kennt mich dort keiner mehr.
Wie bald, ach wie bald kommt die stille Zeit,
Da ruhe ich auch, und über mir
Rauscht die schöne Waldeinsamkeit,
Und keiner kennt mich mehr hier.
Spring Night
In the breezes above the garden
I heard migrant birds passing -
That betokens
the fragrance of spring;
Underfoot the flowers are beginning to bloom.
I want to rejoice, I want to
weep,
Yet I feel it cannot be so!
Old miracles shine in again
With the moonlight.
And
the moon, the stars say it,
And the grove murmurs it in a dream,
And the nightingales sing it:
"She
is yours, she is yours!"
*[the poem in the original]*
Frühlingsnacht
Überm Garten durch die Lüfte
Hört ich Wandervögel ziehn,
Das bedeutet Frühlingsdüfte;
Unten fängt's
schon an zu blühn.
Jauchzen möcht ich, möchte weinen,
Ist mir's doch als könnt's nicht sein!
Alte
Wunder wieder sheinen
Mit dem Mondesglanz herein.
Und der Mond, die Sterne sagen's,
Und im Traume
rauscht's der Hain,
Und die Nachtigallen schlagen's:
"Sie ist deine, sie ist dein!"
Secret Love
Over tree-top and cornfield,
into the glowing light,
who may guess them,
who may seize them?
Thoughts sway
gently,
night is silent,
thoughts are free.
One alone might guess
who was thinking of her
amid the rustling of the glade
when none still keeps watch
but
the clouds flying past;
my love is as silent
and lovely as the night.
[the poem in original:]
Verschwiegene Liebe
Über Wipfel und Saaten
In den Glanz hinein -
Wer mag sie erraten,
Wer holte sie ein?
Gedanken sich wiegen,
Die
Nacht ist verschwiegen,
Gedanken sind frei.
Errät es nur eine,
Wer an sie gedacht
Beim Rauschen der Haine,
Wenn niemand mehr wacht
Als die Wolken, die
fliegen -
Mein Lieb ist verschwiegen
Und schön wie die Nacht.
Night Magic
Do you not hear the streams
making their way between rocks and flowers
to the silent woodland lakes,
where
the marble statues stand
in lovely solitude?
Down from the mountains,
wakening the age-old songs,
gently falls
wondrous night,
and the earth glistens again
as you have often dreamt of it.
Do you know the flower that has sprung up
in the moonlit earth?
From the half-open bud
young limbs are sprouting,
blooming,
white arms, red lips.
And the nightingales trill,
ah, fatally wounded by love,
and all around raise
their lament
of the beautiful days gone by --
Come, O come to this silent spot!
[poem in original:]
Nachtzauber
Hörst du nicht die Quellen gehen
Zwischen Stein und Blumen weit
Nach den stillen Waldesseen,
Wo die Marmorbilder
stehen
In der Schönen Einsamkeit?
Von den Bergen sacht hernieder,
Weckend die uralten Lieder,
Steigt die wunderbare
Nacht,
Und die Gründe glänzen wieder,
Wie du's oft im Traum gedacht.
Kennst die Blume du, entsprossen
In dem mondbeglänzden Grund?
Aus der Knospe, halb erschlossen,
Junge Glieder
blühend sprossen,
Weiße Arme, roter Mund,
Und die Nachtigallen schlagen,
Ach, vor Liebe todeswund,
Von versunken
schönen Tagen
Komm, o komm zum stillen Grund!
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Moonlit Night
It was as if heaven
had quietly kissed the earth,
so that earth with its shimmering blossoms
could only dream of heaven.
the air went through the fields,
the
ears of corn swayed gently,
the woods rustled softly,
the night was so clear and starry.
And my soul spread
its wings out wide,
flew through the quiet lands
as if it were flying home.
*[poem in the original]*
Mondnacht
Es war, als hätt' der Himmel
Die Erde still geküsst,
Dass sie im Blütenschimmer
Von
ihm nur träumen müsst.
Die Luft ging durch die Felder,
Die Ähren wogten sacht,
Es rauschten leis die Wälder,
So sternklar war die Nacht.
Und meine Seele spannte
Weit ihre Flügel aus,
Flog durch die stillen Lande,
Als flöge sie nach Haus.
Melancholy
Sometimes indeed I can sing
as if I am happy;
but tears
well up secretly,
then my heart becomes free.
Nightingales,
when a spring breeze is playing outside,
sound
the song of yearning
from the depths of their prison.
Then all hearts listen,
everyone is glad,
yet no
one feels the sorrows,
the deep pain in the song.
Melancholy (II)
I ramble through valley and grove
in the cool evening
hour,
Oh, to weep I want, to weep
from the bottom of my heart.
And old times' greetings
awaken there,
in the valley,
just as the splashing of the faraway streams
goes through the night.
The sun comes down,
the
world hardly rustles;
only I remain awake,
alone in the quiet field.
*[poem in the original]*
Wehmut
Ich irr' in Thal und Hainen
Bei kühler Abendstund',
Ach, weinen möcht' ich, weinen
So recht aus Herzensgrund.
Und alter Zeiten Grüssen
Kam da, im Thal erwacht,
Gleichwie von fernen Flüssen
Das Rauschen durch die
Nacht.
Die Sonne ging hinunter,
Da säuselt' kaum die Welt,
Ich blieb noch lange munter
Allein im stillen
Feld.
Night
Night is like a sea that heaves,
Joy and grief and love's entreating
Sound like voices
o'er the waves
On the shore incessant beating.
Wishes, light as clouds in air,
Float beneath the star's bright
gleaming,
Heav'n- sent message each doth bear:
Are we waking? Are we dreaming?
Though I bear the secret smart,
Though fond love has ceased entreating;
Softly, deep within my heart,
I can hear those waves still beating.
*[poem
in the original]*
Die Nacht
Nacht ist wie ein stilles meer,
Lust und Leid und Liebesklagen
Kommen
so verworren her
Im dem linden Wellen schlagen.
Wünsche wie die Wolken sind,
Schiffen durch die stillen Räume,
Wer erkennt im lauen Wind,
Ob's Gedanken oder Träume?
Schliess' ich nun auch Herz und Mund,
Die so gern
den Sternen klagen;
Leise doch im Herzensgrund
Bleibt das linde Wellenschlagen.
Abroad
Through the dark streets I go,
and wander from house to house:
I cannot keep controlling my feelings,
so cheerless does everything seem.
Many men and women pass by,
all seeming so happy as they go,
as they laugh, and as they work,
that I lose my senses.
Often when I see bluish streaks
drifting over the roof-tops,
the sunshine roaming about,
the clouds floating in the sky,
then, amid the gaiety,
tears come into my eyes,
for those dear to my heart
are all so far from here.
[the poem in original:]
In der Fremde
Ich geh' durch die dunklen Gassen
Und wandre von Haus zu Haus,
Ich kann mich
noch immer nicht fassen,
Sieht alles so trübe aus.
Da gehen viel Manner und Frauen,
Die alle so lustig sehn,
Die fahren und
lachen und bauen,
Daß mir die Sinne vergehn.
Oft wenn ich bläuliche Streifen
Seh' über die Dacher fliehn,
Sonnenschein
draußen schweifen,
Wolken am Himmel ziehn:
Da treten mitten im Scherze
Die Tränen ins Auge mir,
Denn die mich lieben
von Herzen,
Sind alle so weit von hier.
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Twilight
Dusk is about to spread its wings,
The trees stir eerily,
Clouds pass like oppressive
dreams:
What should this dread mean?
If you have a deer, your favorite,
Let it not graze
alone;
Huntsmen blowing horns pass in the forest,
Voices range to and fro.
If you have a
friend here below,
Do not trust him at this hour,
Though friendly in looks and words,
He is planning
war in the treacherous peace.
What sinks down weary tonight
Will rise tomorrow new-born.
Much
is lost in the night:
Take care, be watchful and alert.
In the Forest
A
wedding passed along the hillside;
I heard birds singing:
There were many glittering riders, the horn sounded,
That was a merry hunt!
And before I realized, it had all died away;
Night covers the horizon,
Only the forest still rustles from the hills,
And I shudder from the bottom of my heart.
*[the poem in the original]*
Im Walde
Es zog eine Hochzeit den Berg entlang,
Ich hörte die Vögel schlagen,
Da blitzen viel Reiter, das Waldhorn klang,
Das war ein lustiges Jagen!
Und eh ich's gedacht, war alles verhallt,
Die Nacht bedecket die Runde,
Nur von den Bergen
noch rauschet der Wald,
Und mich shauert's im Herzensgrunde.
In a Foreign Land (II)
I hear the little streams rippling
to and fro in the forest,
in the forest, in the rippling,
I do not
know where I am.
The nightingales are singing
here in the solitude,
as if they wanted to tell something
of beautiful times past.
The moonbeams are flickering
as if I could see beneath me
the castle
lying in the valley,
and yet it is so far from here!
As if in the garden
full of white and red roses
my beloved must be waiting for me,
and yet she is so long dead!
Bewitching Look
The
castle lies sunken
into the beautiful solitude --
there I sat before the halls
in the still noontime.
There, in the coolness,
the does rested by the wall,
and deep in the blue distance
rested the bright valleys.
Deep below I heard the bells
Ring in the far distance,
and was startled
when I looked at the old
balcony,
For in the window arch
stood a beautiful woman,
as if she guarded from up there
the woods
and the land.
Her hair, like a golden mantle,
was rolled down;
at once she turned around
as if she
wanted to speak.
And as I listened, shuddering,--
then I awoke,
and over me the night
rustled so
strangely.
Did I dream in the moonlight?
I don't know what scares me,
But I will never forget
How
she looked at me!
Homecoming
With my lyre
that sweetly resounded,
I return from many lands
to this town.
I move through the lanes;
the night is so dark
and everything so deserted,
different from what I remembered.
By the fountain I stand and linger:
it gushes forth as before,
of the many who live here
none knows me anymore.
Then I heard fiddling and piping
through wide lighted windows,
where many strangers, happy peole,
whirl and twirl.
And heart and mind burned within me,
driving me out into the wide world;
the fiddles played on
while I slunk away.
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At Gloaming
Through want and joy we have
Walked hand in hand;
We are both resting from our travels
Now, the quiet countryside below us.
Around us the valleys incline;
Already the air grows dark.
Two
larks still soar alone
Half-dreaming, into the haze.
Come here, and let them fly about;
Soon it is time
for sleep.
We must not go astray
In this solitude.
O spacious, tranquill peace,
So profound in the
gloaming.
How tired we are of travelling -
Is this perchance death?
A Beautiful Foreign Land
The tree-tops rustle and shudder
As if at this hour
Around the half-buried
walls
The old gods were passing.
here behind the myrtles
In secret twilight splendor,
What confused
words do you speak, as in dreams,
To me, fantastic night!
All the stars twinkle down on me
With glowing
looks of love,
The distance speaks so raptuously
As if of great future happiness!
In a Castle
Asleep at his watch
up there is the old knight;
rain showers pass over,
and the forest rustles through the
grating.
His beard and hair ingrown,
his chest and collar petrified,
he has sat for many centuries
up
in his quiet call.
Outside it is quiet and peaceful;
everyone has gone down into the valley;
lonely woodbirds
sing
in the empty window arches.
Down below a wedding sails past
in the sunshine on the Rhine;
musicians
are playing merrily
and the lovely bride weeps.
Good Night
The hills and forests are submerged
ever deeper in the evening's gold,
a little bird asks
in the branches
if it should greet my sweetheart.
O little bird, you are mistaken,
she no longer
lives in the walley;
fly up to the heaven's curve,
Greet her there for the last time!
*[poem
in the original]*
Gute Nacht
Die Höhn und Wälder schon steigen
Immer tiefer ins Abendgold,
Ein Vöglein fragt in den Zweigen:
Ob es Liebchen grüssen sollt'?
O Vöglein, du hast dich betrogen,
Sie wohnet nicht mehr im Thal,
Schwing auf dich zum Himmelsbogen,
Grüss sie broben zum letztenmal!
* * *
Come, comfort of the world, you tranquil Night!
How softly you climb down the mountains,
the breezes all are sleeping,
only a boatman still, weary of travelling,
is singing his evening song in the harbor
over the sea, to the praise of God.
The years pass like clouds
and let me remain here alone,
the world
has forgotten me;
you step to me so wondrously,
when I am sitting here,
by the forest's rustling, full of thoughts.
O comfort of the world, you tranquil Night!
The day has made me so tired,
the wide sea is darkening already.
Let me rest from joy and misery,
until the eternal dawn
would illuminate the quiet woods.
The Soldier
You must be daring and hurry away;
already I hear steps behind us in the night;
just jump quickly on to my horse
and kiss me as we flee, my lovely wild child.
Swiftly,
for death is a fast companion.
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