Initial commit of ebook 77623 filesHEADmain

1 files changed, 1742 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/77623-0.txt b/77623-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3db1fd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77623-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,1742 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77623 ***
+
+
+
+
+  EVENING SONGS
+
+  BY
+
+  VÍTĚZSLAV HÁLEK
+
+  _From the Czech Original_
+
+  TRANSLATED BY
+
+  DR. JOSEPH ŠTÝBR
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  BOSTON
+
+  RICHARD G. BADGER
+
+  THE GORHAM PRESS
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY JOSEPH ŠTÝBR
+
+  All Rights Reserved
+
+
+  Made in the United States of America
+
+  The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+Vítězslav Hálek, whose little volume of verses is herewith presented
+to the reader in English translation, belonged to the romantic and
+lyric school of Czech poesy during the second half of the last century.
+He was born in 1835 and died in 1874. From his first appearance in
+literature in 1858 he held his nation at attention and enjoyed its
+admiration and love for twenty years. During that time he produced a
+line of works touching upon nearly all classes of writing; however, the
+lyric string of his lyre proved to be the most charming one, and this
+little volume of Evening Songs proved to be his culminating point. As
+an expression of fragrant effusions of feeling it always appealed to
+the tenderness of youthful hearts and was eagerly sought and read, so
+that the book in the original appeared in many editions.
+
+Should the little volume bring real pleasure to the reader and
+induce others to open wider the doors to the rich and charming Czech
+literature for the readers in English, the effort of the translator
+would be well rewarded.
+
+                                                         THE TRANSLATOR.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                  PAGE
+
+  AS IN THE SKY RISES THE MOON                      53
+
+  AT PROPHETS CAST YE NEVER STONES                  71
+
+  BLEST IS THE MAN WHOM THE LORD’S HAND             67
+
+  DAY AND NIGHT WENT EACH THEIR WAY, THE            55
+
+  DEEP SILENCE REIGNS--IT SEEMS TO ME               48
+
+  DON’T WONDER, SHOULDST THOU CHANCE TO HEAR        58
+
+  FROM HEAVEN ANGELS COME TO EARTH                  72
+
+  GOD SUMMONED ME TO PARADISE                       17
+
+  GOD’S WORLD IS SO FAR AND WIDE, THE               59
+
+  GREATEST HERO IS NOT HE, THE                      32
+
+  HEAVENS ARE REPLETE WITH STARS, THE               33
+
+  HE’S GOING FAR FROM HOME                          75
+
+  HE WHO CAN STRIKE THE GOLDEN STRINGS              70
+
+  HEY, IN THE ROUNDS WHAT PLEASURE                  60
+
+  HUMMING OF THE TREES HAS CEASED, THE              13
+
+  I AM A LINDEN WITH LARGE CROWN                    21
+
+  I AM THE KNIGHT FROM THE OLD TALE                 12
+
+  I BADE THE TRUMPETS TO BE BLOWN                   69
+
+  I DO NOT KNOW, WAS IT A DREAM?                    45
+
+  I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, WITH NO LOVE                 50
+
+  IF ALL THE WORLD LOST ITS DELIGHT                 37
+
+  IF THAT POOR NIGHTINGALE                          18
+
+  IN THE SKY THE MOON WAS STANDING                  74
+
+  IT HAPPENED. MY SOUL MINUS THEE                   26
+
+  IT SEEMED TO ME--GRIEF HAD GROWN OLD              49
+
+  MOON SAILS SLOWLY IN THE SKY, THE                 76
+
+  MUCH HAS BEEN TRUSTED TO THY HANDS                68
+
+  MY GOD, OF ALL THINGS I ASPIRE                    66
+
+  MY LIPS WERE LOCKT A LONG, LONG TIME              64
+
+  MY PILLOW WAS OF SORROW MADE                      62
+
+  MY SWEETHEART, COME, KNEEL DOWN WITH ME           20
+
+  MY SWEETHEART, COME, SIT CLOSE TO ME              29
+
+  MY SWEETHEART, I DREAMT THOU HADST DIED           39
+
+  MY SWEETHEART, LOOK AT THOSE TWO CLOUDS           77
+
+  NIGHT IS FAIR AND TRANSPARENT, THE                43
+
+  NOW GO, MY DARLING CHILDREN, GO                   73
+
+  OF MY SONGS I SHALL BUILD THY THRONE              57
+
+  ONCE AS I THROUGH THE GOLDEN STARS                30
+
+  SCORCHING HEAT OF NOONDAY SUN, THE                35
+
+  SHOULD I TELL THEE THE SECRET TALE                19
+
+  SO MANY, MANY THINGS THERE ARE                    41
+
+  SO OFTEN IT APPEARS TO ME                         22
+
+  SPRING CAME FLYING FROM AFAR, THE                 11
+
+  STARS UPON THE HEAVENS THERE, THE                 31
+
+  STARS BY THE HUNDREDS DOT THE SKY                 15
+
+  TELL WHEREIN THOU HAST SINNED, MY HEART           36
+
+  THAT DEEP AND DARK BLUE HEAVEN’S BOWL             46
+
+  THAT LITTLE BIRD SINGS ALL THE TIME               47
+
+  THAT NIGHTINGALE HAS NOT RETIRED                  24
+
+  THAT YOUNG LITTLE SINGER THERE                    52
+
+  THERE WERE TWO THOUGHTS, TWO THOUGHTS OF GOD      51
+
+  THOSE STARS, THOSE FAIR WEE LITTLE STARS          44
+
+  THOU ART STILL BUT A YOUTHFUL BUD                 23
+
+  THOU HAST LAID THY HAND ON MY HEAD                56
+
+  THOU MAIDEN, CHARMING MOST OF ALL                 25
+
+  THOUGH ALL THE WORLD HAS GONE TO SLEEP            14
+
+  THY BEAUTIFUL EYE IS A LAKE                       28
+
+  ’TIS WRONG FOR MEN TO LACK IN SONG                63
+
+  UP IN THE OAK TREE A DOVE WAILED                  42
+
+  UPON THE SKY THE MOON AND STARS                   34
+
+  WHAT CHARM IS THERE IN LOVE FOR US                16
+
+  WHAT MATTERS IT WHAT IN SWEET SONGS               38
+
+  WHEN GOD FELT HIS SUPREME DELIGHT                 40
+
+  WHEN I GAZE AT THEE, DARLING MINE                 27
+
+  WHEN I SHALL TRUST MY CORPSE TO EARTH             65
+
+  YE ALL WHO DEEM YOURSELVES OPPRESSED              54
+
+  YE LITTLE, YE WEE LITTLE STARS                    61
+
+
+
+
+EVENING SONGS
+
+
+
+
+EVENING SONGS
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+    The spring came flying from afar;
+    With fresh desires all’s teeming;
+    All things pressed forward to the sun--
+    So long all had been dreaming!
+
+    The finches flew out of their nest
+    And children from their bowers,
+    And on the meadows sweetest scents
+    Breathe countless little flowers.
+
+    Young leaves press their way from the twigs
+    And from birds’ throats their voices,
+    And in the heart with budding love
+    The youthful breast rejoices.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+    I am the knight from the old tale
+    Who proudly to the far world rode
+    To see the lass who’s like a rose
+    And to discover her abode.
+
+    Who would behold her--said her fame--
+    Would by a ban at once be struck;
+    His heart would be rent from his breast,
+    Or he would change to be a rock.
+
+    Thought I to myself, possibly
+    For clemency there might be room.
+    I ventured out and for my sin--
+    Became a bard by rigid doom.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+    The humming of the trees has ceased,
+    Their leaves breathe calmly, neatly;
+    The bird is dreaming its fair dream
+    So quietly, so sweetly.
+
+    The heavens’ stars have all come out,
+    All things rest in calm gladness,
+    But in the breast the sorrow wakes
+    And in the heart the sadness.
+
+    The fragrant blossom’s pretty cup
+    Receives dew in its centre--
+    My God, and I, too, feel that dew
+    In mine eyes gently enter.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+    Though all the world has gone to sleep,
+    The heart wakes in the body,
+    And God himself knows that the heart
+    Ne’er sleeps for anybody.
+
+    The whole God’s world is silence-bound,
+    The heart still goes, well rated,
+    And God himself knows that the heart
+    Gets never fatigated.
+
+    Sleep is the conqueror of thought,
+    Night is day’s alternation--
+    But in the breast the heart e’er wakes
+    And guards its love’s sweet passion.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+    Stars by the hundreds dot the sky
+    With sister Moon at leisure,
+    And God and angels view the world
+    From heaven’s height with pleasure.
+
+    A smiling angel’s coming down
+    To earth as heaven’s vision--
+    Fair as the fragrant breath of spring,
+    And love is his sweet mission.
+
+    Wherever he just passes by
+    All’s stricken with sweet passion,
+    And nightingales and fair white doves
+    All sing with animation.
+
+    And he whom his white wing does touch
+    Is transformed all over,
+    And something sweet enters his breast
+    That human words can’t cover.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+
+    What charm is there in love for us,
+    My God, and why we love it?
+    The world would all dissolve in it
+    And lives all in love of it.
+
+    The little cloud sails through the sky
+    As though love’s message drove it;
+    The little bird that sleeps in twigs
+    Is dreaming only of it.
+
+    And here, too, on the earth the man,
+    While death his head does covet,
+    He weeps, rejoices, longs and lives
+    And dies for the sake of it.
+
+    Indeed, the heaven’s angel choir
+    With their harps’ music prove it--
+    What would they sing, if not allowed
+    To play and to sing of it!
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+    God summoned me to Paradise
+    To get me educated.
+    “’Tis hard for me to be alone!”
+    The Lord then Eve created.
+
+    He took not one rib from my breast,
+    My heart in half he parted.
+    That is why my heart still tends back
+    From where Thine once had started.
+
+    And that is why such strange desires
+    So oft in my heart gather,
+    And I feel as though both our hearts
+    Should grow again together.
+
+    And that is why when I’m away
+    Pain to my heart is creeping,
+    My foot does of itself turn back,
+    And I am sad--to weeping.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+    If that poor nightingale
+    Lived always with her mate,
+    Her love songs would not sound
+    So sad and desolate.
+
+    If that poor heart but would
+    With Thee wake through the night,
+    Instead of pain it would
+    Resound with sweet delight.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+    Should I tell Thee the secret tale
+    As nightingale in the oak forest--
+    Or should I weep in bitter tears
+    What sways my heart and gives it no rest?
+
+    Or, kneeling down, with ardent words
+    Should I in prayer spell my passion--
+    Or in a fair and tranquil night
+    Out of my dream breathe my confession?
+
+    Or should the hidden paradise
+    Sleep in my heart’s depth, never uttered,
+    Like in a grave, and far from Thee
+    My love in secret be but muttered?
+
+    O angel mine, I do confess
+    My love for mankind, never dying;
+    But toward Thee--O, don’t chide me,
+    That my mind’s weak and undefying!
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+
+    My sweetheart, come, kneel down with me,
+    Now is the time for us to pray--
+    The moon has risen o’er the woods,
+    And my time has just passed away.
+
+    But, darling, do not clasp Thy hands;
+    Embrace me as I Thee with mine--
+    And thus, instead of clasping hands,
+    Two hearts will in one prayer join.
+
+    Thy lips then press Thou close to mine;
+    From one mouth let the prayer rise--
+    Let me the words press on Thy lips,
+    And Thou send them to Paradise.
+
+    Our prayer shall be strong, indeed,
+    Our offer purest in that case--
+    For angels, too, when they do pray,
+    Are praying just in such embrace.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+    I am a linden with large crown,
+    In style dressed in the meadow:
+    Thou beautiful, sweet rose of May,
+    Come to my cooling shadow.
+
+    Here each green leaf does odor breathe
+    And swarms of bees are humming,
+    And, nightly, little birds arrive--
+    Those are my thoughts, home coming.
+
+    They fly far-off as children do
+    From home until they hunger,
+    But, with Thee seated close to me,
+    They will depart no longer.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+    So often it appears to me,
+    As I embrace and love Thee,
+    That Thou art for me in the world
+    And I for the sake of Thee.
+
+    ’Tis difficult through life to pass
+    Avoiding all deflection;
+    But to give others happiness
+    Is greatest satisfaction.
+
+    And if the king enjoys his crown
+    And God has heaven’s Eden
+    And birds have forest in the spring,
+    I do have Thee, my maiden.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+    Thou art still but a youthful bud
+    Just into the world looming,
+    And yet upon Thy cheek appears
+    A beautiful rose blooming.
+
+    And it is such a dainty rose
+    And such a fragrant blossom
+    That soon a fire burns in the soul
+    And yearning in the bosom.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+    That nightingale has not retired
+    And she’s with song all ringing;
+    That song of love, so long, my God,
+    When will she be done singing?
+
+    From one twig to another twig,
+    From upper to the nether--
+    And I believe that the same plight
+    In hearts we bear together.
+
+    And turning up her serene eye
+    She looks in each direction--
+    And I believe that I could guess
+    What is her eyes’ attraction.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+    Thou maiden, charming most of all,
+    O Thou, world’s greatest treasure,
+    In Thee I found my sweet delight,
+    Thou art my cherished pleasure.
+
+    Thou art as pure as morning drops
+    That come from heaven’s dewing
+    And graceful as the turtle dove
+    When she her song is cooing.
+
+    Thou art fair as the lily white
+    That in sweet odor guises
+    And noble as the morning star--
+    The day dawns as she rises.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+    It happened. My soul minus Thee
+    No longer feels itself as whole;
+    To think myself without Thee once
+    Would be as to have lost my soul.
+
+    Yes, Thou art woven in my soul
+    Thou art her pride and her delight--
+    Thou art my solace, my desire,
+    My happiness--my pain and plight.
+
+    From joyless days Thou heaven weav’st
+    As does the bride her wedding dress;
+    In me Thou wak’st, in me Thou dream’st;
+    What I’m, what Thou, is hard to guess.
+
+    It matters not what my fate be--
+    For I know well its weaving hand.
+    And should Thy hand destruction bring,
+    On that, too, heaven might depend.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+    When I gaze at Thee, darling mine--
+    Thou art a dove--though sweeter--
+    Delightful, playful, gentle, tame,
+    When her mate comes to meet her.
+
+    And I can scarcely gaze enough
+    At Thine eyes and cheeks’ blossom--
+    Thine eyes are but two dark blue gates
+    To Thy deep charming bosom.
+
+    And I can scarcely gaze enough
+    At Thy sweet face reflection--
+    Through it Thy whole heart speaks to me
+    And soul without deception.
+
+    When I gaze at Thee, darling mine--
+    O manna’s sweet dispenser!--
+    Are not those the same lips, indeed,
+    That gave me “yes” for answer?
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+    Thy beautiful eye is a lake
+    In darkness gently waving;
+    In it the bright lights of the night
+    And heavens’ blue are laving.
+
+    And as pure crystal it is clear,
+    One sees the bottom in it--
+    But who attempts to look in deep
+    Will shortly be drowned in it.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+
+    My sweetheart, come, sit close to me,
+    Allow me to embrace Thee;
+    The Lord gave Thee an angel’s soul
+    From heaven, just to grace Thee.
+
+    I feel that I should speak to Thee
+    And make confessions often,
+    But my words stay locked in my mouth
+    And dead as in a coffin.
+
+    And often what I’d like to say
+    Appears unutterable,
+    For, though the soul is filled with it,
+    The tongue to speak’s unable.
+
+    But as I wind my arm ’round Thee
+    And my soul in Thine enters,
+    I feel as though Thou knowest all
+    What on my tongue then centres.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+
+    Once as I through the golden stars
+    Up heavenward was gazing,
+    It seemed to me Thou wert a saint
+    And I an angel blazing.
+
+    Then I a harp took to my hand
+    And songs to Thee I chanted
+    Until the saints’ songs died away
+    And all eyes to us slanted.
+
+    And God the Father for a while
+    Himself ceased in creation.
+    And down His cheek there seemed to roll
+    A diamond of compassion.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+
+    The stars upon the heavens there
+    Are worlds of greatest features,
+    And I would only like to know
+    What kind they have of creatures.
+
+    If some one from that height up there
+    At us ’way down here gazes,
+    And if he up there like I here
+    His voice in love songs raises.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+
+    The greatest hero is not he
+    For blows with blows who’s paying,
+    But he who, hundred times betrayed,
+    Himself knows no betraying.
+
+    Who after love can send a curse
+    He never felt love’s passion,
+    For love is able to forgive
+    And knows no condemnation.
+
+    Who will not bring a sacrifice
+    To him no love be proffered;
+    Bad is the priest who thinks he’s more
+    Than that what he has offered.
+
+    And should e’er love demand of me
+    My life and share in heaven--
+    I would go as the lamb for Thee
+    To whom my love I’ve given.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+
+    The heavens are replete with stars
+    As spring time is with daisies;
+    Thus everything in God’s great world
+    For love has its own praises.
+
+    The violet’s replete with scent
+    And dew in little blossom,
+    And that dear nightingale sings love
+    From overflowing bosom.
+
+    The heavens are replete with stars,
+    With blazing lights all sweeping,
+    And here on earth the living men
+    Are singing and are weeping.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+
+    Upon the sky the moon and stars,
+    The forest full of voices,
+    And God spreads only love around
+    In which the world rejoices.
+
+    The murmurs in young foliage
+    Change to low sweet narration;
+    The world is gay and jubilant
+    And melts in osculation.
+
+    And yet I know that somewhere grief
+    Some youthful heart oppresses,
+    And that a secret bitter tear
+    Some young pale cheek caresses.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+
+    The scorching heat of noonday sun
+    Is my love’s blazing passion;
+    The night--fair shadow of the day--
+    Thy love’s sweet moderation.
+
+    Thou hast set fire within my breast,
+    Earth’s centre’s heat assuming,
+    But that fire, unnursed by Thy love,
+    Will die, itself consuming.
+
+    I dreamt of banquets with Thy love
+    And have but crumbs collected;
+    What wonder, then, if only grief
+    Is in my face reflected.
+
+    The heart, indeed, can suffer much,
+    Oppressed by love’s great hunger,
+    And whether I am day or night
+    I now can guess no longer.
+
+    ’Tis written thus. The day and night
+    Proceed, each other missing--
+    But as the evening’s dusk arrives,
+    They meet, each other kissing.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+
+    Tell wherein thou hast sinned, my heart;
+    My God, such tribulation!
+    That what forever should be joined
+    Must live in separation.
+
+    How beautiful the life would be
+    In love without distressing!
+    But to forever yearn and live--
+    Where is therein a blessing?
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+
+    If all the world lost its delight
+    And had no other pleasure
+    And love alone was left behind--
+    The life would have its treasure.
+
+    And if all other things were truth
+    And love but dreams’ delusion--
+    I would be ready to lie down
+    And sleep to life’s conclusion.
+
+    And if till now I’ve only dreamt--
+    My dreams had their sweet flavor,
+    And who sang me my lullabies
+    I shan’t forget forever.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+
+    What matters it what in sweet songs
+    The nightingale is telling,
+    Since my own heart has left its place
+    And now with Thee ’tis dwelling.
+
+    And if her call rang e’er so sweet
+    And into mine ears chanted:
+    What matters it, since in my heart
+    And soul now Thou art planted!
+
+    And there Thou art, so charmful,
+    Beyond imagination,
+    That I’d give the sky’s stars, my soul,
+    To Thee in admiration.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+
+    My sweetheart, I dreamt Thou hadst died;
+    I heard the death-knells pealing,
+    And there were tears and wails and cries
+    And signs of saddest feeling.
+
+    For the low mound o’er Thy strange bed
+    They picked a tombstone blindly,
+    And a verse for Thine epitaph
+    To write they asked me kindly.
+
+    Oh, folks! Oh, folks! yourselves of stones,
+    My heart take, with grief raving,
+    And what I have not sung before
+    Use for the stone’s engraving!
+
+    You trusted not in my pure love
+    And scorned my word and letter--
+    Now if the stone will speak to you,
+    You’ll understand it better.
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+
+    When God felt His supreme delight,
+    The human heart He molded
+    And for eternal memory
+    His love in it He folded.
+
+    And as He gazed upon the heart
+    With eyes divine, forseeing,
+    He wept, for He was overjoyed
+    To see the blissful being.
+
+    But as He wept, one of His tears,
+    Unnoticed, the heart entered,
+    As dew falls in a flower cup,
+    And near the bottom centered.
+
+    That is why love is a great grief,
+    But grief so sweet and charming
+    That pitied must be all the hearts
+    That have escaped its harming.
+
+    That is why love is half of bliss
+    And half of grief a token,
+    But if the tear swells to a wave,
+    Then some heart may be broken.
+
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+
+    So many, many things there are
+    To which the keys are lacking;
+    Deep silence answers all man’s knocks
+    And foils his undertaking.
+
+    Thou human heart! There sorrows howl
+    As wolves, by hunger driven,
+    And yet that same heart, oh, my God!
+    To love alone is given.
+
+    ’Tis capable of so much love
+    That man’s wit may be failing,
+    And he may as the lonely dove
+    In vain roam, ever wailing.
+
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+
+    Up in the oak tree a dove wailed--
+    Below, a brooklet muttered--
+    Don’t wonder, when I was to speak,
+    That not a word I uttered.
+
+    Can he speak from all his soul’s depth
+    Who does in strange lands wander?
+    And man’s too human that he should
+    At paradise not wonder.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+
+    The night is fair and transparent--
+    One sees the heaven’s sainted;
+    The song, the odor, and the buzz
+    Hold the whole heart enchanted.
+
+    O pity, Thou art not with me,
+    To hear with me and wonder
+    How everything here tells its tale
+    To the clear heavens yonder.
+
+    How the whole world is but one song
+    The universe pervading,
+    And that from human hearts but comes
+    An echo, faint and fading.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+
+    Those stars, those fair wee little stars,
+    The heavens’ blue dome lighting,
+    They look to me down with sweet eyes,
+    Me up to them inviting.
+
+    Oh no! ye fair wee little stars;
+    You love that wheel of heaven,
+    While I prefer to stay down here
+    Where I find all I’ve craven.
+
+    You don’t know, fair wee little stars,
+    And think not what you’re missing;
+    We have here heaven on the earth
+    In sweet, delightful kissing.
+
+
+
+
+XXXV
+
+
+    I do not know, was it a dream?
+    But in my mind it lingers--
+    I saw and read the nations’ fates,
+    Decreed by God’s own fingers.
+
+    Thoughts, earnest as was God himself,
+    Passed through His great head, thronging
+    And beautiful as nights of spring
+    For a sweet body longing.
+
+    Some thought--great as the universe,
+    Some--music sounding gently,
+    Some--future human history,
+    By human eyes seen faintly.
+
+    There, too, I met with my own love
+    And with Thy heart, ne’er failing,
+    That love of ours appeared there
+    As two small bright clouds sailing.
+
+    And God, observing our sweet love,
+    Himself with grace relented,
+    And throngs of young angels their hymns
+    Before Him on it chanted.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+
+    That deep and dark blue heavens’ bowl--
+    And stars as golden blossoms;
+    As man looks at them from the earth,
+    His heart strange feelings bosoms.
+
+    And all the time more and more stars
+    Appear without a bound there--
+    And yet not ev’ry little star
+    Can easily be found there.
+
+    But whene’er in two youthful hearts
+    First breath of love does enter,
+    A new star is said to appear
+    In heavens’ dark blue center.
+
+    And if in one of the two hearts
+    Love’s blossoms starts to wither,
+    Then from the dark blue heavens’ bowl
+    One golden star drops hither.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+
+    That little bird sings all the time
+    As one song with life ringing;
+    So wonder not, if one does love,
+    That he’ll pass life in singing.
+
+    And that bird speaks from heart to heart,
+    And it knows how, directly,
+    So that man hardly keeps back tears,
+    If he knows hearts perfectly.
+
+    Yes, often it appears to me
+    That I am as its fellow,
+    For my songs, too, can move to tears,
+    So soft they are, and mellow.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+
+    Deep silence reigns--it seems to me
+    Sleep comes to mine eyes, resting,
+    As does a bird come to its mate
+    In their home softly nesting.
+
+    The night’s soft bed is ready made--
+    The heavens, with stars covered.
+    Maybe that some heart will forget
+    For what this day it suffered.
+
+    Maybe that some heart will forget,
+    And if it found no treasure,
+    Maybe it finds it in its dream
+    And with it finds its pleasure.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+
+    It seemed to me--Grief had grown old,
+    Soon would come its last countin’,
+    And tears--so many had been shed
+    That dry must be their fountain.
+
+    Then suddenly I thought of Thee,
+    And soon my whole soul shivered,
+    And as though I should lose Thee soon
+    An echo in it quivered.
+
+    And mine eyes promptly filled with tears,
+    My joy to grief is bending,
+    And I am finding out with pain
+    That tears shall have no ending.
+
+
+
+
+XL
+
+
+    I thought to myself, with no love
+    How’d look that world of ours:
+    It would be as a dreary waste
+    Without a trace of flowers.
+
+    The heart would wander through that waste
+    And always on grief border,
+    It would be sad as the world was
+    Ere God to light gave order.
+
+    It would be so sad that on earth
+    Man would not like the livin’,
+    And God the Father would not like
+    To stay as God in heaven.
+
+
+
+
+XLI
+
+
+    There were two thoughts, two thoughts of God,
+    Two stars beside each other,
+    And from all of the heavens’ stars
+    They most loved one another.
+
+    Once one of them fell to the earth--
+    The other pined in sorrow,
+    And God, touched by her grief and love,
+    Sent her down on the morrow.
+
+    They sought each other many nights
+    As lonely souls their Eden,
+    Until one day they chanced to meet
+    As a young man and maiden.
+
+    Their eyes met, and they recognized
+    Each other, tender-hearted,
+    And lived together in great bliss
+    Till one of them departed.
+
+    And when she died, she always called
+    And languished for the other,
+    Till God summoned the other one,
+    And they’re again together.
+
+
+
+
+XLII
+
+
+    That young little singer there--
+    Why did she cease her narration?
+    Her eyes quickly filled with tears
+    As though grieved in separation.
+
+    Some one may think to himself,
+    God, how can her young soul darken?
+    Her face young and beautiful,
+    And her song so sweet to hearken.
+
+    Ah, a beautiful young face
+    May not do in solace bringing;
+    And though sweet the song may be--
+    You don’t always feel like singing.
+
+
+
+
+XLIII
+
+
+    As in the sky rises the moon--
+    So into hearts love enters;
+    And secret pain and silent grief
+    Around it often centers.
+
+    And visions man had not thought of
+    He may see, dimly lighted,
+    And secret pain and silent grief
+    May be in song united.
+
+    But gales and tempests violent
+    In many hearts are waking,
+    And ere in song they utter them--
+    How many hearts are breaking!
+
+
+
+
+XLIV
+
+
+    Ye all who deem yourselves oppressed,
+    Come near, come nearer to me:
+    Lay off your sorrows’ burdens here
+    And light up your minds gloomy.
+
+    I’ve reared here a vast realm of love
+    Where mate seeks his mate pretty,
+    And what one harbors in his heart
+    Resounds in love’s sweet ditty.
+
+    No rival here, no hater’s known,
+    Here speech is love song, wooing;
+    Here lions turn to calm, meek lambs
+    And hawks to doves, sweet, cooing.
+
+    Here are all ailments’ remedies;
+    Here hearts are ever youthful;
+    Here never fades the blooming rose,
+    And friendship’s ever truthful.
+
+
+
+
+XLV
+
+
+    The day and night went each their way--
+    The day, as Judas, traitor,
+    The night, so fair, so beautiful,
+    That none can ever hate her.
+
+    The little stars shine in the sky,
+    The moon comes with her pallor,
+    And in the forest chats the dove,
+    The fair and tender caller.
+
+    The heart confesses to the heart
+    With thoughts in distance sailing,
+    And longing lips thirst for a kiss,
+    From burning passion thrilling.
+
+
+
+
+XLVI
+
+
+    Thou hast laid Thy hand on my head,
+    My temples proud caressing;
+    Thy lips have whispered their sweet words
+    In prayer and in blessing.
+
+    Thou hast revealed Thy soul to me
+    In Thy love’s fragrant blossom,
+    And what I had not dared to dream--
+    Thou took’st me to Thy bosom.
+
+    With blessing Thou hast graced my harp,
+    My heart and my lips’ diction;
+    To pious battles Thou hast sent
+    My songs with benediction.
+
+    My forehead is from sadness freed,
+    Fears are a thing I scoff at,
+    My soul is filled with dawning light--
+    And I am love’s great prophet.
+
+
+
+
+XLVII
+
+
+    Of my songs I shall build Thy throne
+    In style of bards of greatest fame.
+    Thy sceptre shall be my own heart,
+    My fame shall be Thy diadem.
+
+    Love I shall declare to be law,
+    I shall sing daily Thine esteem;
+    In Thy soul I’ll pour love’s delight
+    And sweetest longing in Thy dream.
+
+    I shall bid birds to sing to Thee,
+    May’s flowers shall fall to Thy feet;
+    I’ll change to heaven the world and all
+    And there command the stars to meet.
+
+    I’ll make your subjects all men’s hearts,
+    Revive the Eden with my verse,
+    Proclaim Thee high queen of it all
+    Throughout the whole of universe.
+
+
+
+
+XLVIII
+
+
+    Don’t wonder, shouldst Thou chance to hear
+    Birds sing of Thy love’s wooing;
+    They called once at my window sill
+    To see what I was doing.
+
+    And they again came and again
+    And soon taught me to love them,
+    For I am free just as they are
+    And am just like one of them.
+
+    I sang them many songs of Thee
+    That in sweet love abounded,
+    And they soon tuned their throats to them
+    Till in their songs love sounded.
+
+    The other day I called on them
+    In their woods and nooks shady
+    And was surprised to find the birds
+    To sing my songs already.
+
+
+
+
+XLIX
+
+
+    The God’s world is so far and wide
+    And goodness in small measure;
+    By thousands one can count the pains
+    And very little pleasure.
+
+    The heart is ready to redeem
+    With hundred pains one pleasure--
+    And the same heart, O God, for love
+    Will suffer past all measure.
+
+
+
+
+L
+
+
+    Hey, in the rounds what pleasure
+    While one his lass embraces!
+    Let’s have the charming music--
+    Come, pale lad, join our races!
+
+    Ah, the pale lad’s whole body
+    As though with cold frost shivered,
+    And down his pale cheeks quickly
+    A stream of hot tears quivered.
+
+
+
+
+LI
+
+
+    Ye little, ye wee little birds,
+    Ye song-dreamers in sleeping;
+    Does anyone of you there know
+    That I die here from weeping?
+
+    Dear moon, stop moving in the sky
+    Till I some solace gather;
+    My love’s fire’s extinct as art thou--
+    We both fit well together.
+
+    The last flame flickers to die out,
+    All that’s left are words hollow;
+    Yet I would blow all to new life,
+    Though nought but grief should follow.
+
+
+
+
+LII
+
+
+    My pillow was of sorrow made
+    My sleep were tears, free flowing;
+    Go easy, my heart--not so loud:
+    Deep penitence I’m showing.
+
+    The moon comes by the window in,
+    Gown’d in her deathly pallor,
+    And in the heart a song died down
+    As of a bird, sad caller.
+
+    Dear moon, light up the stars on high;
+    Let dew descend on flowers;
+    Awake from sleep the nightingale,
+    But men--let sleep their hours!
+
+    You carry off the gorgeous love--
+    You know the calamity;
+    I am now but a wretched man--
+    Ah, pity, pity, pity!
+
+
+
+
+LIII
+
+
+    “’Tis wrong for men to lack in song--”
+    In judgment God has spoken--
+    And then He sent a bard to men
+    And gave him this as token:
+
+    “Throughout thy life have thou no rest,
+    Thy bread with tears be eaten;
+    Know thou nought but hard suffering,
+    In all hopes be thou beaten!
+
+    “Though thy heart be rent to its blood--
+    View that blood to them clinging;
+    Though driven by them through all lands--
+    Love them--and keep on singing!”
+
+    That lot is common to us bards.
+    Men may have our songs chanted,
+    But with what had brought on our song--
+    None cares to get acquainted.
+
+
+
+
+LIV
+
+
+    My lips were lockt a long, long time,
+    And mute as rocks are lonely,
+    But suddenly they were unlockt
+    By Thee with one kiss only.
+
+    That kiss fell as in month of May
+    On parched earth falls a shower;
+    Now songs began to sprout again
+    In my soul with fresh power.
+
+
+
+
+LV
+
+
+    When I shall trust my corpse to earth
+    And my soul to God’s keeping,
+    I ask to be laid as a bard
+    Away to my last sleeping.
+
+    Into my hand I want the lyre,
+    On head, leaves from laure’s arbor;
+    Let my new neighbors know at once
+    Who comes to their calm harbor.
+
+    I always holy held the lyre
+    And not a mere toy only:
+    So let it be mine ornament
+    In night long and place lonely.
+
+    Should we feel lonesome in the graves
+    And, maybe, for home too sick,
+    Then I shall sing a song for them
+    And cheer them up with music.
+
+    And should in your lives sluggishness
+    And sleep here overtake you:
+    I’ll rouse the dead and send them back,
+    And they shall come and wake you.
+
+
+
+
+LVI
+
+
+    My God, of all things I aspire
+    I here confess, whole-hearted;
+    All I pray for is that from song
+    I never shall be parted.
+
+    Shouldst Thou withdraw my gift of song--
+    I ask to live no longer;
+    Shouldst Thou for song bid me take bliss--
+    I still to song cling stronger.
+
+
+
+
+LVII
+
+
+    Blest is the man whom the Lord’s hand
+    As bard had consecrated;
+    He has looked into God’s decrees
+    And has men’s breasts well rated.
+
+    He knows what says the world’s great psalm
+    And what the birds are singing;
+    He understands the throbbing heart,
+    In tears, and with joy ringing.
+
+    What secret is to other men
+    Is open to his vision;
+    He is the leader of God’s race
+    To its long promised region.
+
+    He is the king of kingdoms vast,
+    The priest of men’s salvation,
+    And beauties’ treasures lie in him
+    Beyond all estimation.
+
+
+
+
+LVIII
+
+
+    Much has been trusted to Thy hands;
+    My heart in them I planted,
+    And God placed sweet songs in that heart
+    To have men’s bliss augmented.
+
+    A strange plant is the human heart--
+    Not easily to nourish;
+    For, it is up to love alone,
+    If it shall die or flourish.
+
+    A strange plant is the human heart--
+    It needs the climate’s favor
+    And dew and rain and best of care
+    To yield fruit of good flavor.
+
+    So should my heart from Thy hands sprout
+    In honor of the nation,
+    Long ages that are yet to come
+    Shall sing Thine adoration.
+
+
+
+
+LIX
+
+
+    I bade the trumpets to be blown
+    For glorious resurrection;
+    I shall in final judgment sit--
+    Ye shall hear your fates’ lection.
+
+    Ye who have been opposed to love
+    And have against it spoken:
+    Ye shall despair for all the time,
+    And your hearts shall be broken.
+
+    But ye who always have kept faith
+    And treated love with favor:
+    Ye come and gather on my right
+    And live in love forever.
+
+    To you in heaven special place
+    And special bliss be given,
+    For, having loved upon the earth,
+    You had the taste of heaven.
+
+
+
+
+LX
+
+
+    He who can strike the golden strings
+    Be highest honors given,
+    For God has shewn you such great love
+    That He sent him from heaven.
+
+    It’s dreadful when with barren fields
+    And plague God means to punish,
+    But greatest scorge visits the race
+    From whom its songs do vanish.
+
+    That nation has not perished yet
+    To whom its bards are singing:
+    For all song is of heaven’s birth
+    And life in death ’tis bringing.
+
+
+
+
+LXI
+
+
+    At prophets cast ye never stones;
+    They are as birds, shy, clever:
+    Cast thou a stone at him but once,
+    And he is gone forever.
+
+    God’s fearful wrath the nation seeks
+    Whose love of bards is shaken,
+    And greatest wrath befell the race
+    From whom God songs has taken.
+
+    The poet’s heart is pure and chaste,
+    His faith does never vary;
+    Therefore, what he sings from his heart
+    That ye in your hearts carry!
+
+
+
+
+LXII
+
+
+    From heaven angels come to earth--
+    Dreams with their golden visions,
+    And each of them brings men in sleep
+    Delight from happy regions.
+
+    Wherever these fair angels stop,
+    Men learn all they had craven;
+    For they know and tell them in dreams
+    Fair tales direct from heaven.
+
+    The eyelids suddenly get sealed--
+    With sweetness of sleep laden:
+    Thine image stands in front of me--
+    Good night, good night--my maiden!
+
+
+
+
+LXIII
+
+
+    Now go, my darling children, go--
+    This is no more your station;
+    Accept for your quaint journey yet
+    Your father’s osculation!
+
+    May be, somewhere they’ll honor you
+    And offer you receptions;
+    But somewhere they may criticise--
+    Be ready for exceptions!
+
+    But let your mind not be disturbed
+    Nor wrinkles in face driven:
+    All kinds of men live in the world,
+    But few to love are given.
+
+
+
+
+LXIV
+
+
+    In the sky the moon was standing;
+    Dreams to me new songs were lending.
+
+    Birds came and told one another
+    How much we did love each other.
+
+    That the fair fresh meadow flowers
+    Would be wedding gowns of ours.
+
+    That green ivy with her story
+    Would wreathe Thy head with its glory.
+
+    Adorned with thousand charms,
+    That Thou wouldst rest in my arms.
+
+
+
+
+LXV
+
+
+    He’s going far from home,
+    With sorrow laden;
+    He turns yet and looks back--
+    Good-bye, dear maiden!
+
+    He turns yet and looks back,
+    His kerchief waving;
+    With kerchief he dries yet
+    Eyes in tears laving.
+
+    And now behind him closed
+    A foreign region
+    As in the sky the lark
+    Gets lost to vision.
+
+    He’s gone, but he’ll come back
+    Again, joy-laden--
+    But ere he will return--
+    Good-bye, dear maiden!
+
+
+
+
+LXVI
+
+(Posthumous)
+
+
+    The moon sails slowly in the sky
+    So calmly and so freely;
+    The nightingale wails in the twigs
+    So sweetly and so really.
+
+    Thy image stands in front of me
+    So calmly and so freely;
+    The heart in longing wakes and calls
+    So sweetly and so really.
+
+    A swarm of songs is circling ’round
+    So calmly and so freely;
+    And into mine eye steals a tear
+    So sweetly and so really.
+
+    Now gentle sleep knocks at my door
+    So calmly and so freely--
+    And I recall Thee to my mind
+    So sweetly and so really.
+
+
+
+
+LXVII
+
+(Posthumous)
+
+
+    My sweetheart, look at those two clouds
+    Above that mountain yonder--
+    The moon sheds her light on their way,
+    And in close touch they wander.
+
+    The maiden choir of quiet stars
+    Is twinkling to them greeting,
+    And gentle zephyrs in their breath
+    Bring odors to them, fleeting.
+
+    Lo! from the shrubs the nightingale
+    Flew up with her narration--
+    Hark how she sends her song to them
+    As song’s true incarnation!
+
+    My love, look from Thy window there
+    How those clouds float together--
+    I asked them to bid Thee “good night,”
+    Sweet dreams ’round Thee to gather.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77623 ***