THE
SONG OF THE OCEAN
Conrad
Ferdinand Meyer (1825-1898) was a Swiss poet and writer. His poems
are well-formed and often create lyric images from the world and
nature without specific reference to emotions, preferring to leave
the reader to find an emotional metaphor if they wish. The Song of
the Ocean is such a vivid evocation of ocean, clouds and the cycle of
water that gives all things life.
THE
TWO ROOTS
Die
zwei Wurzeln is
a whimsical poem from Christian Morgenstern (1871-1914). Although
also a lyrical poet and a translator, Morgenstern is famous for his
humorous and "nonsense" poems. Interestingly modern
research has shown that trees in forests do "talk" to each
other through their roots.
THE
OLD CHIMNEY CORNER
Heine's
poem can be considered a critique of romanticism in poetry and art.
However, it could also be considered a gently humorous take on day
dreaming and its contrast with everyday life.
DUSK'S
DESCENDED
At
the age of seventy eight in 1827 Goethe wrote a short cycle of poems
called The Chinese-German Book of Seasons and Hours which
includes the poem " Dämmrung senkte sich von oben ". The
emotions of the poems are invoked by natural scenes and times rather
in the manner of many classical Chinese poems. Some see this poem as
a reflection on mortality but its mood could also be seen as one of
inner peace.
THE
SONG OF THE OCEAN
Clouds,
my children, will you be wandering ?
Fare
you well; until we meet again !
For
your forms, that wish to change and fly,
Can't
be bound by my maternal tie.
Yes,
you are most weary of my waves,
And
the land has lured you away-
Coasts
and cliffs, the lighthouse beacon's flare!
Be
off, children. Seek adventure there.
Sail,
brave sailors, through the air's light seas.
Seek
the summits. Rest above ravines.
Brew
up storms. Blaze forth. Vent blows of light.
Wear
the purple gown of glowing fight !
Rush
in the rain. Murmur in the springs.
Fill
the fountains. Trickle through rippling streams.
Gush
down through lands in river's roar-
Come,
my children, come to me once more !
THE
TWO ROOTS
Two
great old fir roots hold a good
conversation
in the wood.
What
rustles in the tops on high
from
down below gets some reply.
An
ancient squirrel's squatting there,
to
knit good stockings for the pair.
Now
one says: criff. The other says: cruff.
And
that, for one day, is enough.
THE
OLD CHIMNEY CORNER
Outside
now the white flakes fly
Through
the night, loud is the storm;
In
the small room here it's dry;
Lonely,
homely-calm, and warm.
I
sit, musing in my armchair,
By
the crackling fire place;
And
the boiling kettle hums there
Long-lost
melodies' last trace.
And
a small cat sits just by,
Warming
small paws in the glow;
Flame
forms flicker, weave and fly;
Strange
the moods within me grow.
As
in twilight, rises many,
Many
a long-forgotten era;
As
in drifting, long and motley
Masquerades
and faded splendour.
With
knowing looks fair women beckon
With
a sweet, mysterious air;
Harlequins,
with gay abandon,
Jump
and laugh between them there.
In
the distance gods of marble
Give
a greeting, near them grow
Dreamlike
flowers of tale and fable,
Leaves
astir in moonlight glow.
Past
me swim uncertain sights,
Magic
castles of past ages;
And
behind come shining knights,
Riding
with attendant pages.
And
this all goes passing over,
Hurried
shadow-hastily-
Oh!
the kettle's boiling over,
And
the wet cat howls at me.
DUSK'S
DESCENDED
Dusk's descended
from the height,
All that's near's
already far;
Now uplifts the
gracious light
Of the evening's
first star.
All things blur to
indistinctness,
Mists are creeping
upward now;
Mirroring black
deeps of darkness
Rests the lake in
this still hour.
Now in eastern
regions there,
I sense moonbeams'
glow and glide;
And slim willows'
fine twig hair
Sports upon next-rising tide.
Through the stirring
shadows' play
Trembles Luna's
magic sheen;
Through the eye the
coolness strays
Softly to the heart
within.
