DEDICATION
FROM
GOETHE'S FAUST
This
poem is my translation of the dedication to Goethe's Faust. Goethe
wrote it at the time he was revising and adding to his fragmentary
version that was written in his youth. Thus he was reminded of lost
time and friends from many years ago and the poem is like an ode to
times past in a person's life. It is in the iambic metre and very
similar in form to the odes of other romantic poets (like Keats for
example). Translating verse poses many issues as a simply literal
version
(that in itself is usually
impossible
anyway in metre and rhyme) loses
all the "poetry" of the original so it is necessary to try
to "re-create" the feeling of the original as well as its
sense as far as possible.
DEDICATION
after
the German of Goethe
You near once more, you floating forms, who passed
My troubled view in early days’ confusion.
Oh, should I try this time to hold you fast?
Now shall my heart still draw towards that illusion?
You crowd on me! Then you may rule my gaze.
Oh, how you rise around from mist and haze.
My heart feels stirred, as in far younger days,
By magic breath surrounding your lost ways.
You bring with you the scenes of joyful times,
And many long-loved shades rise in my view;
And like an old, half-fading tale I find
First love and friendship both spring up with you.
My pain grows fresh and it laments anew
The labyrinthine, erring course of life,
And names the good- those whom false fortune’s flight
Stole from fair hours to vanish from my sight.
They do not hear the songs that follow on,
Those souls to whom I sang my first. Today
The friendly troop is long dispersed and gone;
First echoing response has died away.
My song now rings out to an unknown throng;
Their very cheers just bring my heart dismay.
Of those my song once pleased all those not dead
Are distant, scattered through the world instead.
I’m seized by long-unwonted yearning here
For that serene and earnest spirit-land.
My moving song floats murmuring, like clear,
Aeolian harp strings touched by the wind’s light hand.
I tremble, tear is following on tear.
My stern, strict heart grows soft. From where I stand,
What I possess seems far away from me,
And what has vanished becomes reality.
You near once more, you floating forms, who passed
My troubled view in early days’ confusion.
Oh, should I try this time to hold you fast?
Now shall my heart still draw towards that illusion?
You crowd on me! Then you may rule my gaze.
Oh, how you rise around from mist and haze.
My heart feels stirred, as in far younger days,
By magic breath surrounding your lost ways.
You bring with you the scenes of joyful times,
And many long-loved shades rise in my view;
And like an old, half-fading tale I find
First love and friendship both spring up with you.
My pain grows fresh and it laments anew
The labyrinthine, erring course of life,
And names the good- those whom false fortune’s flight
Stole from fair hours to vanish from my sight.
They do not hear the songs that follow on,
Those souls to whom I sang my first. Today
The friendly troop is long dispersed and gone;
First echoing response has died away.
My song now rings out to an unknown throng;
Their very cheers just bring my heart dismay.
Of those my song once pleased all those not dead
Are distant, scattered through the world instead.
I’m seized by long-unwonted yearning here
For that serene and earnest spirit-land.
My moving song floats murmuring, like clear,
Aeolian harp strings touched by the wind’s light hand.
I tremble, tear is following on tear.
My stern, strict heart grows soft. From where I stand,
What I possess seems far away from me,
And what has vanished becomes reality.
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