4. AWAY!
If by one woman thou’rt jilted, love
Another, and so forget her;
To pack up thy knapsack, and straight remove
From the town will be still better.
Thou’lt soon discover a blue lake fair,
By weeping willows surrounded;
Thy trifling grief thou’lt weep away there,
Thy pangs so little founded.
Whilst climbing up the hillside fast,
Thou’lt pant and groan full loudly;
But when on the rocky summit at last,
Thou’lt hear the eagle scream proudly.
An eagle thyself thou’lt seem to be,
New life the change will bestow thee;
Thou’lt feel thou hast lost, when thus set free,
Not much in the world below thee.
5. WINTER.
The cold may burn us sadly
Like fire, and mortals hurry
Amidst the snowdrift madly,
With still-increasing flurry.
O winter stern and chilly,
When frozen are our noses,
And piano-strumming silly
Our ears so discomposes!
I like the summer only
When in the wood I’m roving
With my own griefs all-lonely,
And scanning verses loving.
6. THE OLD CHIMNEYPIECE.
Outside fall the snowflakes lightly
Through the night, loud raves the storm
In my room the fire glows brightly,
And ’tis cosy, silent, warm.
Musing sit I on the settle
By the firelight’s cheerful blaze,
Listening to the busy kettle
Humming long-forgotten lays.
And beside me sits a kitten,
Warming at the blaze her feet;
Strangely are my senses smitten
As the flickering flames they meet.
Many a dim long-buried story
O’er me soon begins to rise,
But with dead and faded glory,
And in strange and mask’d disguise.
Lovely women with shrewd faces
Greet me with a secret smile,
Then the harlequins run races,
Laughing merrily the while.
Distant marble-gods nod kindly,
Dreamily beside them grow
Fable-flow’rs, whose leaves wave blindly
In the moonlight to and fro.
Magic castles, once resplendent,
Ruin’d now, in sight appear;
Knights in armour, squires attendant
Quickly follow in their rear.
All these visions I discover
As with shadowy haste they pass,—
Ah, the kettle’s boiling over,
And the kitten’s burnt, alas!
7. LONGING.
Thou beholdest in thy vision
Fable’s silent flow’rs before thee,
And a yearning wild steals o’er thee
At their fragrant scent elysian.
But thou from those flow’rs art parted
By a gulf both deep and fearful;
Thou becomest sad and tearful,
And at last art broken-hearted.
How they glitter! how they lure me!
Could I but the gulf pass over!
How the secret to discover,
And a bridge across procure me?
8. HELENA.
Thou hast call’d me forth from out of the grave
By means of thy magic will now,
And fill’d me full of love’s fierce glow—
This glow thou never canst still now.
O press thy mouth against my mouth,
Man’s breath with heaven is scented;
Thy very soul I’ll drain to the dregs,
The dead are never contented.
9. THE WISE STARS.
The flowerets sweet are crush’d by the feet
Full soon, and perish despairing;
One passes by, and they must die,
The modest as well as the daring.
The pearls all sleep in the caves of the deep,
Where one finds them, despite wind and weather
A hole is soon bored and they’re strung on a cord,
And there fast yoked together.
The stars are more wise, and keep in the skies,
And hold the earth at a distance;
They shed their light in the heavens so bright,
In safe and endless existence.
10. THE ANGELS.
Faithless as Saint Thomas, never
Could I in the heaven believe
Which both Jew and Priest endeavour
To compel men to receive.
That the angels, though, are real
I have never held in doubt;
Spotless, and of grace ideal,
On this earth they move about.
Still I doubt if such a being
Wing’d is, it must be confess’d;
I have recently been seeing
Wingless angels, I protest.
With their dear and loving glances
With their loving hands so white
Men they guard, and all advances
Of misfortune put to flight.
Every one can comfort borrow
From their favour and regard;
Most of all that child of sorrow
Whom the people call a bard.
16. POEMS FOR THE TIMES.
1. SOUND DOCTRINE.
Quick, beat the drum, and be not afraid,
The suttler-maiden lovingly kiss;
This is the whole of knowledge, in truth,
The deepest book-learning lies in this.
Quick, drum the people out of their sleep,
And drum the réveille with the ardour of youth,
And as you march, continue to drum—
This is the whole of knowledge, in truth.
All Hegel’s philosophy here is found,
The deepest book-learning lies in this;
I’ve found it out, because I’m no fool,
And also because I drum not amiss.
2. ADAM THE FIRST.
Gendarmes of heaven with flaming swords
Thou sent’st in cruel fashion,
And drov’st me out of Paradise
Without the least compassion.
In search of another country, I
And my wife from Eden hasted;
Thou canst not alter the fact that there
The tree of knowledge I tasted.
Thou canst not alter the fact that I know
Thy weakness and many blunders,
However mighty thou seemest to be
When wielding death and thunders.
O heavens, how pitiful is this
Consilium abeundi!
I call it a Magnificus
Of earth, a Lumen Mundi.
I shall not miss the spacious realms
Of Paradise one minute.
It is no genuine Paradise
When trees forbidden are in it.
I claim my full unfetter’d rights!
The slightest limitation
Changes my Paradise at once
To hell and desolation.
3. WARNING.
Worthy friend, ’twill be perdition
Books like this to think of printing!
Wouldst thou money earn or honour
Thou must bend in meek submission.
Never in this manner flighty
Shouldest thou before the public
Thus have spoken of the parsons
And of monarchs high and mighty!
Friend, thou’lt be by all forsaken!
Princes have long arms, the parsons
Have long tongues, and then the public
Have long ears, or I’m mistaken!
4. TO A QUONDAM FOLLOWER OF GOETHE.
(1832.)
Hast thou, then, superior risen
To the chilly dream of glory
Which great Weimar’s poet hoary
Wove around thee, like a prison?
Are thy old friends bores now voted?—
Clara, Gretchen,—names familiar,—
Serlo’s chaste maid, and Ottilia
In the “Wahlverwandschaft” noted?
Thou’rt with Germany enchanted,
Art become a Mignon-hater,
And thou seek’st for freedom greater
Than Philina ever granted.
Like a Luneburgomaster,
Thou dost battle for the nation,
Holding up to execration
Kings, as causing all disaster.
And I hear with pleasure hearty,
What a pitch thy praises grow to,
And how thou’rt a Mirabeau, too,
At each Luneburg tea-party!
5. THE SECRET.
We sigh not, and the eye’s not moisten’d,
We laugh at times, we often smile;
In not a look, in not a gesture
The secret comes to light the while.
Deep in our bleeding spirit hidden,
It lies in silent misery;
If in our wild heart it finds language,
The mouth’s still closed convulsively.
Ask of the suckling in the cradle,
Ask of the dead man in the grave;
They may perchance disclose the secret
To which I never utt’rance gave.
6. ON THE WATCHMAN’S ARRIVAL IN PARIS.
“Good watchman with face so sad and despairing,
“Why runnest thou hither with headlong speed?
“My dear fellow-countrymen, how are they faring?
“My fatherland, is it from tyranny freed?”
All’s going on well, and liberty’s blessing
Is showering silently on us its stores,
And Germany, calmly and safely progressing,
Unfolds and develops herself within doors.
Unlike France, superficial are none of her blossoms,—
There freedom but touches the outside of life;
’Tis but in the depths of their innermost bosoms
That freedom with Germans is found to be rife.
They’ll finish Cologne’s great cathedral, they tell us,
The Hohenzollerns[A] have brought this to pass;
A Hapsburg[A] has shown himself equally zealous,
A Wittelsbach[14] gives it some fine painted glass.
That true Magna Charta, a free constitution,
They’ve promised, and surely their promise they’ll keep;
A king’s word’s a prize, without circumlocution,—
Like the Nibelung stone in the Rhine it lies deep.
The Brutus of rivers, the free Rhine, they surely
Can never remove him from out of his bed;
The Dutchman his feet have fasten’d securely,
The Switzers securely are holding his head.
God will grant us a fleet, if we prove persevering;
Our patriotic exuberant strength
Will find a vent in sailing and steering,
The pain of imprisonment ending at length.
The seeds cast their shells and the spring’s blooming sweetly,
We draw a free breath at this time of the year;
If permission to print is denied us completely,
The censorship will of itself disappear.
7. THE DRUM-MAJOR.[15]
The old drum-major it is that we see;
Poor fellow, he’s pull’d down sadly!
In the Emperor’s time a youngster was he,
And merrily lived and gladly.
He used to balance his ponderous stick,
While a smile on his face play’d lightly;
The silver-lace on his tunic so thick
In the rays of the sun gleam’d brightly.
Whene’er with a mighty roll of the drum
He enter’d a village or city,
He caused an echo responsive to come
In the heart of each girl, plain or pretty.
He came and saw and conquer’d too
Each fair one welcomed him in;
His black moustache was wetted through
With tears of German women.
Resistance was vain! In every land
That the foreign invaders came to,
The Emperor vanquished the gentlemen, and
The drum-major each maiden and dame too.
Our sorrows full long we patiently bore
Like oaks, with no one to heed ’em,
Until the Authorities gave us once more
The signal to battle for freedom.
Like buffaloes rushing on to the fray,
We toss’d our horns up proudly,
The yoke of France we cast away,
The songs of Körner sang loudly.
O terrible verses! the tyrant’s ear
At their awful sound revolted;
The Emperor and the drum-major in fear
Precipitately bolted.
They both of them reap’d the wages of sin,
And came to an end inglorious;
The Emperor Napoleon tumbled in
The hands of the Britons victorious.
In Saint Helena his time he now pass’d
In martyrdom, banish’d from France, Sir,
And, after long suff’ring, died at last
Of that terrible ailment cancer.
The poor drum-major, too, fell in disgrace,
And lost his situation;
In our hotel he took the place
Of boots,—what degradation!
He warms the oven, he scours the pots,
And wood and water fetches;
His grey head wags as he wheezingly trots
Up the stairs, so weak the poor wretch is.
When Fritz comes to see me, he finds himself
Inclined to jeer and rally
The comical lanky poor old elf
And his motions shilly-shally.
O Fritz, a truce to raillery, please!
The sons of Germany never
Should fallen greatness love to tease,
Or to torment endeavour.
Such people you ought to regard with pride
And filial piety rather;
Perchance upon the mother’s side
The old man is your father!
8. DEGENERACY.
Has Nature’s self been going backward,
And human faults assuming, then?
The very plants and beasts, I fancy,
Now lie as much as mortal men.
I trust not in the lily’s chasteness;
The colour’d fop, the butterfly,
Toys with her, kisses, round her flutters,
Till lost is all her purity.
The violet’s modesty moreover
I hold full cheap. The little flower
With the coquettish breezes trifles,
In secret pants for fame and power.
I doubt if Philomel appreciates
The time she sings with pompous mien;
She overdoes it, sobs, and warbles
Methinks from nought but pure routine.
Truth from the earth is fast departing,
The days of Faith are also o’er;
The dogs still wag their tails, smell bully
And yet are faithful now no more.
9. HENRY.
In Canossa’s castle courtyard
Stands the German Cæsar Henry,
Barefoot, clad in penitential
Shirt—the night is cold and rainy.
From the window high above him
Peep two figures, and the moonlight
Gregory’s bald head illumines
And the bosom of Mathilda.
Henry, with his lips all pallid,
Murmurs pious paternosters;
Yet in his imperial heart he
Secretly revolts and speaks thus:
“In my distant German country
“Upward rise the sturdy mountains;
“In the mountain-pits in silence
“Grows the iron for the war-axe.
“In my distant German country
“Upward rise the fine oak-forests;
“In the loftiest oak-stem ’mongst them
“Grows the handle for the war-axe.
“Thou, my dear and faithful country,
“Wilt beget the hero also
“Who in time will crush the serpent
“Of my sorrows with his war-axe.”
10. LIFE’S JOURNEY.
What laughter and singing! The sun’s rays crossing
Each other gleam brightly; the billows are tossing
The joyous bark, and there I reclined
With friends beloved and lightsome mind.
The bark was presently wreck’d and shatter’d,
My friends were poor swimmers, and soon were scatter’d,
And all were drown’d, in our fatherland;
I was thrown by the storm on the Seine’s far strand.
Another ship I now ascended,
My journey by new companions attended;
By strange waves toss’d and rock’d, I depart—
How far my home! how heavy my heart!
Once more arises that singing and laughter!
The wind pipes loud, the planks crack soon after—
In heaven is quench’d the last last star—
How heavy my heart! My home how far!
11. THE NEW JEWISH HOSPITAL AT HAMBURG.
A hospital for Jews who’re sick and needy,
For those unhappy threefold sons of sorrow,
Afflicted by the three most dire misfortunes
Of poverty, disease, and Judaism.
The worst by far of all the three the last is,
That family misfortune, thousand years old,
That plague which had its birth in Nile’s far valley,
The old Egyptian and unsound religion.
Incurable deep pain! ’gainst which avail not
Nor douche nor vapour-bath, the apparatus
Of surgery, nor all the means of healing
Which this house offers to its sickly inmates.
Will Time, eternal goddess, e’er extinguish
This glowing ill, descending from the father
Upon the son,—and will the grandson ever
Be cured, and rational become and happy?
I cannot tell! Yet in the meantime let us
Extol that heart which lovingly and wisely
Sought to alleviate pain as far as may be,
Into the wounds a timely balsam pouring.
Dear worthy man! He here has built a refuge
For sorrows which by the physician’s science
(Or else by death’s!) are curable, providing
Cushions, refreshing drinks, and food, and nurses.
A man of deeds, he did his very utmost,
Devoted to good works his hard-earned savings
In his life’s evening, kindly and humanely,
Recruiting from his toils by acts of mercy.
He gave with open hand—but gifts still richer,
His tears, full often from his eyes were rolling,
Tears fair and precious, which he wept deploring
His brethren’s great, incurable misfortune.
12. GEORGE HERWEGH.[16]
When Germany first drank her fill,
You then were her obedient vassal,
Believing in each pipe-bowl still,
And in its black-red-golden tassel.
But when the fond delirium ceased,
Good friend, how great your consternation!
The public seem’d a very beast,
After its sweet intoxication!
Pelted by vile abusive swarms
With rotten apples, in disorder,
Under an escort of gendarmes
You reach’d at length the German border.
There you stood still. A tear you wiped
Away, the well-known posts on spying
Which like the zebra’s back are striped,
With heavy heart as follows sighing:—
“Aranjuez, in lightsome mood
“Once stay’d I in thy halls so splendid,
“When I before King Philip stood,
“By all his proud grandees attended.
“He gave me an approving smile
“When I the Marquis Posa acted;
“My prose he could not relish, while
“My verses his applause attracted.”[17]
13. THE TENDENCY.
German bard! extol our glorious
German freedom, that thy lay
May possess our souls, and fire us,
And to mighty deeds inspire us,
Like the Marseillaise notorious.
Be no more, like Werther, tender,
Who for Lotte sigh’d all day;
Thou shouldst tell the people proudly
What the bells proclaim so loudly,—
Speak of dirks, swords, no surrender.
Gentle flutes no more resemble,
Be not so idyllic, pray!
Fire the mortars, beat to quarters,
Crash, kill, thunder, make them tremble.
Crash, kill, thunder like a devil
Till the last foe flies away;
To this cause devote thy singing,
Thy poetic efforts bringing
To the common public’s level.
14. THE CHILD.
The good their gifts in dream enjoy,
How did it fare with thee?
Scarce feeling it, you’ve got a boy,
Poor virgin Germany!
This boy an urchin frolicsome
Ere long shall we behold;
A first-rate archer he’ll become,
As Cupid was of old.
He’ll pierce the soaring eagle through;
And, proudly though he fly,
The double-headed eagle too
Struck by his bolt, shall die.
But that blind heathen God of love
Will he resemble not
In wearing neither clothes nor glove,
Nor be a sans-culotte.
The seasons in our land combine
With morals and police
To make both old and young incline
To wear their clothes in peace.
15. THE PROMISE.
You no more shall barefoot crawl so
Through the dirt, poor German freedom!
Stockings (as you find you need ’em)
You shall have, and stout boots also.
As respects your head, upon it
To protect your ears from freezin’
In the chilly winter-season
You shall have a nice warm bonnet.
You shall have, too, savoury messes—
Grand the future that’s before you!
Let no Satyr, I implore you,
Lure you onward to excesses!
Do not haste on fast and faster!
Render, as becomes inferiors,
Due respect to your superiors
And the worthy burgomaster.
16. THE CHANGELING.
A child with monstrous pumpkin head,
Grey pigtail, and moustache light red,
With lanky arms and yet stupendous,
No bowels, yet with maw tremendous,—
A changeling which a Corporal
Into our cradle had let fall
On stealing from it our own baby—
This monster, falsehood’s child, (or may be
’Twas in reality the son
Of his own favourite dog alone)—
What need to say how much we spurn it?
For heaven’s sake, drown it or else burn it!
17. THE EMPEROR OF CHINA.[18]
My father was a dreadful bore,
A good-for-nothing dandy;
But I’m a mighty Emperor,
And love a bumper of brandy.
These glorious draughts all others surpass
In this, their magical power:
As soon as I have drain’d my glass,
All China bursts into flower.
The Middle Kingdom bursts into life,
A blossoming meadow seeming;
A man I wellnigh become, and my wife
Soon gives me signs of teeming.
On every side abundance reigns,
The sick no longer need potions;
Confucius, Court-philosopher, gains
Distinct and positive notions.
The ryebread the soldiers used to eat
Of almond cakes is made now;
The very vagabonds in the street
In silk and satin parade now.
The knightly Order of Mandarins,
Those weak old invalids, daily
Are gaining strength and filling their skins,
And shaking their pigtails gaily.
The great pagoda, faith’s symbol prized,
Is ready for those who’re believing;
The last of the Jews are here baptized,
The Dragon’s order receiving.
The noble Manchoos exclaim, when freed
From the presence of revolution:
“The bastinado is all that we need,
“We want no constitution!”
The pupils of Æsculapius perhaps
May tell me that drink’s dissipation;
But I continue to drink my Schnaps,
To benefit the nation.
And so in drinking I persevere;
It tastes like very manna!
My people are happy, and drink their beer
And join in shouting Hosanna!