The Poems of Goethe by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (10 best novels of all time .TXT) 📕

Feed its hunger fully first! To keep our proper place,

We'll show our bristles more; With hawks men all things chase,

Except the savage boar.

BY those who themselves more bravely have fought A hero's praise will be joyfully told. The worth of man can only be taught By those who have suffer'd both heat and cold.

"WHEREFORE is truth so far from our eyes, Buried as though in a distant land?" None at the proper moment are wise!

Could they properly understand,

Truth would appear in her own sweet guise, Beauteous, gentle, and close at hand.

WHY these inquiries make,

Where charity may flow? Cast in the flood thy cake,--

Its eater, who will know?

ONCE when I a spider had kill'd,

Then methought: wast right or wrong?

That we both to these times should belong, This had God in His goodness willed.

MOTLEY this congregation is, for, lo! At the communion kneel both friend and foe.

IF the country I'm to show, Thou must on the housetop go.

A MAN with households twain

Ne'er finds attention meet, A house wherein two women reign

Is ne'er kept clean and neat.

BLESS, thou dread Creator,

Bless this humble fane; Man may build them greater,--

More they'll not contain.

LET this house's glory rise,

Handed to far ages down,

And the son his honour prize. As the father his renown.

O'ER the Mediterranean sea

Proudly hath the Orient sprung; Who loves Hafis and knows him, he

Knows what Caldron hath sung.

IF the ass that bore the Saviour

Were to Mecca driven, he

Would not alter, but would be Still an ass in his behavior.

THE flood of passion storms with fruitless strife

'Gainst the unvanquished solid land.--

It throws poetic pearls upon the strand, And thus is gain'd the prize of life.

WHEN so many minstrels there are,

How it pains me, alas, to know it! Who from the earth drives poetry far?

Who but the poet!

VII. TIMUR NAME.

BOOK OF TIMUR.

THE WINTER AND TIMUR.

So the winter now closed round them With resistless fury. Scattering Over all his breath so icy, He inflamed each wind that blithe To assail them angrily. Over them he gave dominion To his frost-unsharpened tempests; Down to Timur's council went he, And with threat'ning voice address'd him:-- "Softly, slowly, wretched being! Live, the tyrant of injustice; But shall hearts be scorch'd much longer By thy flames,--consume before them? If amongst the evil spirits Thou art one,--good! I'm another. Thou a greybeard art--so I am; Land and men we make to stiffen. Thou art Mars! And I Saturnus,-- Both are evil-working planets, When united, horror-fraught. Thou dost kill the soul, thou freezes E'en the atmosphere; still colder Is my breath than thine was ever. Thy wild armies vex the faithful With a thousand varying torments; Well! God grant that I discover Even worse, before I perish! And by God, I'll give thee none. Let God hear what now I tell thee! Yes, by God! from Death's cold clutches Nought, O greybeard, shall protect thee, Not the hearth's broad coalfire's ardour, Not December's brightest flame."

TO SULEIKA.

FITTING perfumes to prepare,

And to raise thy rapture high, Must a thousand rosebuds fair

First in fiery torments die.

One small flask's contents to glean,

Whose sweet fragrance aye may live, Slender as thy finger e'en,

Must a world its treasures give;

Yes, a world where life is moving,

Which, with impulse full and strong, Could forbode the Bulbul's loving,

Sweet, and spirit-stirring song.

Since they thus have swell'd our joy,

Should such torments grieve us, then? Doth not Timur's rule destroy

Myriad souls of living men?

VIII. SULEIKA NAME.

BOOK OF SULEIKA.

ONCE, methought, in the night hours cold,

That I saw the moon in my sleep; But as soon as I waken'd, behold

Unawares rose the sun from the deep.

THAT Suleika's love was so strong

For Joseph, need cause no surprise;

He was young, youth pleaseth the eyes,--

He was fair, they say, beyond measure

Fair was she, and so great was their pleasure. But that thou, who awaitedst me long, Youthful glances of fire dost throw me, Soon wilt bless me, thy love now dost show me, This shall my joyous numbers proclaim, Thee I for ever Suleika shall name.

HATEM.

NOT occasion makes the thief;

She's the greatest of the whole; For Love's relics, to my grief,

From my aching heart she stole.

She hath given it to thee,--

All the joy my life had known, So that, in my poverty,

Life I seek from thee alone.

Yet compassion greets me straight

In the lustre of thine eye, And I bless my newborn fate,

As within thine arms I lie.

SULEIKA.

THE sun appears! A glorious sight!

The crescent-moon clings round him now. What could this wondrous pair unite?

How to explain this riddle? How?

HATEM.

May this our joy's foreboder prove!

In it I view myself and thee; Thou calmest me thy sun, my love,--

Come, my sweet moon, cling thou round me!

LOVE for love, and moments sweet,

Lips returning kiss for kiss, Word for word, and eyes that meet;

Breath for breath, and bliss for bliss. Thus at eve, and thus the morrow!

Yet thou feeblest, at my lay, Ever some half-hidden sorrow; Could I Joseph's graces borrow,

All thy beauty I'd repay!

HATEM.

O, SAY, 'neath what celestial sign

The day doth lie, When ne'er again this heart of mine

Away will fly? And e'en though fled (what thought divine!)

Would near me lie?-- On the soft couch, on whose sweet shrine

My heart near hers will lie!

HATEM.

HOLD me, locks, securely caught

In the circle of her face! Dear brown serpents, I have nought

To repay this act of grace,

Save a heart whose love ne'er dies,

Throbbing with aye-youthful glow; For a raging ETA lies

'Neath its veil of mist and snow.

Yonder mountain's stately brow

Thou, like morning beams, dost shame; Once again feels Hatem now

Spring's soft breath and summer's flame.

One more bumper! Fill the glass;

This last cup I pledge to thee!-- By mine ashes if she pass,

"He consumed," she'll say, "for me."

THE LOVING ONE SPEAKS.

AND wherefore sends not The horseman-captain His heralds hither

Each day, unfailing? Yet hath he horses, He writes well.

He waiteth Tali, And Neski knows he To write with beauty On silken tablets. I'd deem him present, Had I his words.

The sick One will not, Will not recover From her sweet sorrow; She, when she heareth That her true lover Grows well, falls sick.

THE LOVING ONE AGAIN.

WRITES he in Neski, Faithfully speaks he; Writes he in Tali, Joy to give, seeks he: Writes he in either, Good!--for he loves!

THESE tufted branches fair

Observe, my loved one, well! And see the fruits they bear

In green and prickly shell!

They've hung roll'd up, till now,

Unconsciously and still; A loosely-waving bough

Doth rock them at its will.

Yet, ripening from within.

The kernel brown swells fast; It seeks the air to win,

It seeks the sun at last.

With joy it bursts its thrall,

The shell must needs give way. 'Tis thus my numbers fall

Before thy feet, each day.

SULEIKA.

WHAT is by this stir reveal'd?

Doth the East glad tidings bring? For my heart's deep wounds are heal'd

By his mild and cooling wing.

He the dust with sports doth meet,

And in gentle cloudlets chase; To the vineleaf's safe retreat

Drives the insects' happy race,

Cools these burning cheeks of mine,

Checks the sun's fierce glow Adam, Kisses, as he flies, the vine,

Flaunting over hill and plain.

And his whispers soft convey

Thousand greetings from my friend; Ere these hills own night's dark sway,

Kisses greet me, without end.

Thus canst thou still onward go,

Serving friend and mourner too! There, where lofty ramparts glow,

Soon the loved one shall I view.

Ah, what makes the heart's truth known,--

Love's sweet breath,--a newborn life,-- Learn I from his mouth alone,

In his breath alone is rife!

THE SUBLIME TYPE.

THE sun, whom Grecians Helms call,

His heavenly path with pride doth tread, And, to subdue the world's wide all,

Looks round, beneath him, high o'er head.

He sees the fairest goddess pine,

Heaven's child, the daughter of the clouds,-- For her alone he seems to shine;

In trembling grief his form he shrouds,

Careless for all the realms of bliss,--

Her streaming tears more swiftly flow: For every pearl he gives a kiss,

And changeth into joy her woe.

She gazeth upward fixedly,

And deeply feels his glance of might, While, stamped with his own effigy,

Each pearl would range itself aright.

Thus wreath'd with bows, with hues thus grac'd,

With gladness beams her face so fair, While he, to meet her, maketh haste,

And yet, alas! can reach her ne'er.

So, by the harsh decree of Fate,

Thou modest from me, dearest one; And were I Helms e'en, the Great,

What would avail his chariot-throne?

SULEIKA.

ZEPHYR, for thy humid wing,

Oh, how much I envy thee! Thou to him canst tidings bring

How our parting saddens me!

In my breast, a yearning still

As thy pinions wave, appears; Flow'rs and eyes, and wood, and hill

At thy breath are steeped in tears.

Yet thy mild wing gives relief,

Soothes the aching eyelid's pain; Ah, I else had died for grief,

Him ne'er hoped