Dichter lieben nicht zu schweigen,
Wollen sich der Menge zeigen.
Lob und Tadel muß ja seyn!
Niemand beichtet gern in Prosa;
Doch vertraun wir oft sub Rosa
In der Musen stillem Hain.
Was ich irrte, was ich strebte,
Was ich litt und was ich lebte,
Sind hier Blumen nur im Strauß;
Und das Alter wie die Jugend,
Und der Fehler wie die Tugend
Nimmt sich gut in Liedern aus.
Anonymous translation from the German “Ohne Hast, ohne Rast.” WITHOUT haste! without rest! Bind the motto to thy breast; Bear it with thee as a spell: Storm and sunshine guard it well! Heed not flowers that round thee bloom, Bear it onward to the tomb. Haste not! Let no thoughtless deed Mar for...
From the German by Thomas Carlyle From “Wilhelm Meister” “KNOW’ST thou the land where citron-apples bloom, And oranges like gold in leafy gloom, A gentle wind from deep-blue heaven blows, The myrtle thick, and high the laurel grows? Know’st thou it then? ’T is there! ’T is...
From the German by Charles Timothy Brooks THE WATERS purled, the waters swelled,— A fisher sat near by, And earnestly his line beheld With tranquil heart and eye; And while he sits and watches there, He sees the waves divide, And, lo! a maid, with glistening hair, Springs from the...
From the German by Sir Theodore Martin and William Edmondstoune Aytoun WHO rides so late through the midnight blast? ’T is a father spurs on with his child full fast; He gathers the boy well into his arm, He clasps him close and he keeps him warm. “My son, why thus to my arm dost cling?”— “...
Qui chevauche si tard à travers la nuit et le vent ?
C’est le père avec son enfant.
Il porte l’enfant dans ses bras,
Il le tient ferme, il le réchauffe.
« Mon fils, pourquoi cette peur, pourquoi te cacher ainsi le visage ?
Père, ne vois-tu pas le roi des Aulnes,...
