Σάββατο, 11 Σεπτεμβρίου 2010

Die Liebe - Friedrich Hölderlin

 
painting by Connie Chadwell                                                                                

LOVE
trans. Michael Hamburger
If you drop an old friend, if, O you grateful ones,
Your own poets you slight, slander and cheapen, may
God forgive you, but always
Honour lovers, respect their soul.

For, I ask you, where else humanly do men live
Now that slavish one, Care, rules and compels us all?
Therefore too has the God long
Moved uncaring above our heads.

Yet no matter how cold, songless the year may be,
When the season is due still from the field all white
New green blades will be sprouting,
Often one lonely small bird will sing,

When the woods all expand, slowly, the river stirs
Milder breezes at last tenderly blow from the south,
At the hour pre-elected,
So, a sign of the better age

We believe in, unique thanks to her self-content,
Noble, pious, on soil hard as iron and waste,
Love, the daughter of God, comes,
Only his and from him alone.

You, then, heavenly plant, now let me bless, and be
Ever tended with song, when the aetherial
Nectar's energies feed you,
Ripened by the creative ray.

Grow and be a whole wood! Be a more soul-inspired,
Fully blossoming world! Language of lovers now
Be the language our land speaks,
And their soul be the people's lilt!

DIE LIEBE

Friedrich Hölderlin