The idea of dividing the collection into books was suggested by the fact that two of Hāfiḍ's longer poems bear the titles مغنی نامه، ساقی نامه, i.e. "book of the cup-bearer" and "book of the minstrel," as well as by the seven-fold division which Sir William Jones had made of Oriental poetry.[103] For the heroic there was no material, nor were some of the other divisions suitable for Goethe's purpose. So only the Buch der Liebe and the Buch des Unmuts (to correspond to satire) could be formed. Other books were formed in an analogous manner until they were twelve in number. The poet originally intended to make them of equal length, but this intention he never carried out, and so they are of very unequal extent, the longest being that of Suleika (53 poems) and the shortest those of Timur and of the Parsi (two poems each).
The great majority of the Divan-poems are not in any sense translations or reproductions, but entirely original compositions inspired by the poet's Oriental reading and study. The thoroughness and earnestness of these studies is attested by the explanatory notes which were added to the Divan and were published with it in 1819,[104] and which show conclusively, that, although Goethe could not read Persian poetry in the original, he nevertheless succeeded admirably in entering into its spirit.
We have mentioned Hammer's translation of Hāfiḍ as the direct impulse to the composition of the Divan. It was also the principal source from which the poet drew his inspiration for the work. A single verse would often furnish a theme for a poem. Sometimes this poem would be a translation, e.g. "Eine Stelle suchte der Liebe Schmerz," p. 54 (H. 356. 8); but more often it was a very free paraphrase, e.g. the motto prefixed to Buch Hafis, a variation of the motto to Hammer's version (H. 222. 9). As an example of how a single verse is developed into an original poem we may cite "Über meines Liebchens Äugeln," p. 55, where the first stanza is a version of H. 221. 1, all the others being free invention. Other Persian poets besides Hāfiḍ also furnished material. Thus the opening passage of Saʻdī's Gulistān was used for "Im Athemholen," p. 10, where the sense, however, is altered and the line "So sonderbar ist das Leben gemischt" is added. A number of poems are based on the Pand Nāmah of ʻAṭṭār, e.g. pp. 58, 60,[105] and two are taken from Firdausī, namely "Firdusi spricht," p. 75 (Sh. N. i. p. 62, couplet 538; Mohl, i. 84; Fundgruben. ii. 64) and "Was machst du an der Welt?" p. 96 (Sh. N. i. p. 482, coupl. 788, 789; Red. p. 58). But it was not only the poetical works of Persia that were laid under contribution; sayings, anecdotes, descriptions, remarks of any kind in books of travel and the like were utilized as well. Thus Hammer in the preface to his version of Hāfiḍ relates the fatvā or judgment which a famous muftī of Constantinople pronounced on the poems of the great singer, and this gave Goethe the idea for his "Fetwa," p. 32.[106] In the same preface[107] is related the well known reply which Hāfiḍ is reported to have given to Timur, when called to account by the latter for the sentiment of the first couplet of the famous eighth ode, and this inspired the poem "Hätt' ich irgend wol Bedenken," p. 133. Similarly "Vom heutigen Tag," p. 94, is based on the words of an inscription over a caravansery at Ispahan found in Chardin's book. The story of Bahrāmgūr and Dilārām inventing rhyme[108] gave rise to the poem "Behramgur, sagt man," p. 153. And so we might cite poems from other sources, Qurān, Jones' Poeseos, Diez' Buch des Kabus, etc., but the examples we have given are sufficient to show how Goethe used his material.
Throughout the Divan Persian similes and metaphors are copiously employed and help to create a genuine Oriental atmosphere. The adoration of the dust on the path of the beloved, p. 23 (cf. H. 497. 10); the image of the candle that is consumed by the flame as the lover is by yearning, p. 54 (cf. H. 414. 4); the love of the nightingale for the rose, p. 125 (cf. H. 318. 1); the lover captive in the maiden's tresses, p. 46 (cf. H. 338. 1); the arrows of the eye lashes, p. 129 (cf. H. 173. 2); the verses strung together like pearls, p. 193 (cf. H. 499. 11), are some of the peculiarly Persian metaphors that occur. Allusions to the loves of Yūsuf and Zalīχā, of Laīlā and Majnūn and of other Oriental couples are repeatedly brought in. Moreover, a whole book is devoted to the sāqī so familiar to students of Hāfiḍ, and Goethe does not shrink from alluding to the subject of boy-love, p. 181.
A great many of the poems, however, do not owe their inspiration to the Orient, and many are completely unoriental. Such are, for instance, those of the Randsch Namah, expressing, as they do, Goethe's opinions on contemporary literary and aesthetic matters. Again, many are inspired by personal experiences, and, as is now well known, the whole Buch Suleika owes its origin to the poet's love for Marianne von Willemer; some of its finest poems have been proved to have been written by this gifted lady. Such poems, written under the impressions of some actual occurrence, were sometimes subsequently orientalized. Some striking illustrations of this are given by Burdach in the essay which we cited before and to which we refer.
As the Divan was an original work, though inspired by Oriental sources, Goethe did not feel the necessity of imitating the extremely artificial forms of his Oriental models. Besides, he knew of these forms only indirectly through the work of Jones. What Hammer's versions could teach him on this point was certainly very little. Perhaps he did not realize what an essential element form is in Persian poetry, that, in fact, it generally predominates over the thought, and this so much that the unity of a γazal is entirely dependent on the recurrence of the rhyme. Instead of such recurrent rhyme he employs changing rhyme and free strophes. Only twice does he attempt anything like an imitation of the γazal, but in neither case does he satisfy the technical rules of this poetic form.[109]
From all this we see that Goethe in the Divan preserves his poetic independence. He remains a citizen of the West, though he chooses to dwell for a time in the East. As a rule he takes from there only what he finds congenial to his own nature. So we can understand his attitude towards mysticism. He has no love for it; it was utterly incompatible with his own habit of clear thinking. Speaking of Rūmī, the prince of mystics, he doubts if this poet could give a clear account of his own doctrine;[110] the grades by which, according to Sūfī-doctrine, man rises to ultimate union with the Godhead he calls follies.[111] Therefore to him Hāfiḍ was the singer of real love, real roses and real wine, and this conception of the great lyric poet was also adopted by all the later Hafizian singers.[112] Unfortunately it cannot be said that it is quite correct. For even if we ignore the mystical interpretation which Oriental commentators give to the wine of Hāfiḍ, we cannot possibly ignore the fact that the love of which he sings is never the ideal love for woman, but mostly the love for a handsome boy.[113]
With the Divan Goethe inaugurated the Oriental movement in German poetry, which Rückert, Platen and Bodenstedt carried to its culmination. These later Hafizian singers remembered gratefully what they owed the sage of Weimar. Rückert pays his tribute to him in the opening poem of his Östliche Rosen, where he hails him as lord of the East as he has been the star of the West.[114] And Platen offers to him reverentially his first Ghaselen:
Der Orient sei neu bewegt,
Soll nicht nach dir die Welt vernüchtern,
Du selbst, du hast's in uns erregt:
So nimm hier, was ein Jüngling schüchtern
In eines Greisen Hände legt.[115]
The poetic spirit of the Orient had been brought into German literature; it was reserved for Rückert and Platen to complete the work by bringing over also the poetic forms.