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Friedrich Hölderlin

Daily I go out, and seek another, always.
All the paths of the land I have asked of her
There above on the cooling hill, the shadows all I have visited
And the streams; back and forth the spirit wanders
Asking for peace; so flees the wounded beast into the forests
Where otherwise it would rest at midday safe in the darkness
But never will its green shelter spur its heart
Crying out and sleepless it is driven forth by the thorn
Not the warmth of the light, and not the cool of the night will help
And in vain it immerses its wounds in the waves of the stream.
And just as in vain the earth will pass to it the joyous healing plant
And the seething blood will be stilled by none of the Zephyri
So it is with you, my love! To me as well, will it thus appear, and no one
Can take the sad dream from my brow?

Yeah. It does you no credit, you deathgods! When once
You held him, and had him fast, the defeated and captive man,
When you, evil ones, took him up into the terrible night,
There to seek, to flee, to rage with you
Or patiently but still in fearsome enchantment to live with you
And with smiles to hear from you the sobering melody.
If it is so, then forget your healing, and sleep without sound.
And yet hoping a sound wells up in your breast
Forever can you not, o my soul! Still you cannot
Get used to it, and you dream in the middle of iron sleep.
I have no festival time, and yet I would garland my hair;
Am I then not alone? From faraway there must be
Something friendly close to me, and I must smile and be amazed
How blessed it is to me, also in the midst of pain.

Light of love! Do you shine to the dead as well, you golden.
Do you shine pictures of a brighter time at me in the night?
Lovely gardens be, you evening-red mountains
Be welcome and you, silent paths of the meadow,
Beget heavenly happiness and you high-seeing stars
Who granted me so often then your blessing looks
You, you lovers also, you lovely children of the Mayday
Still roses and you lilies, I name you often.
There the springtimes go forth, a year presses upon the other,
Changing and conflicting, so does time roil up there
Above the mortal head, but not before blessed eyes
And to the loving is another life given
For they all the days and years of the stars, they were
Diotima! close around us and eternally united.

But we, contentedly joined, like the loving swans who
When they rest upon the lake, or rock upon the waves,
Look down into the waters, where sliver clouds mirror themselves,
And ethereal blue moves beneath the shipping
So upon the earth did we roam. And the north threatened as well
He, the enemy of lovers, readying accusations, and fell
The leaf from the branches, and flew the rain in the wind,
Calmly we smiled, felt our own god
In trusted conversation; in one soul song
Completely at peace with ourselves childlike and joyfully alone
But the house is deserted to me now, and my eyes they have
Taken from me, myself too I have lost with her.
Thus I must wander around, and probably, like the shadows, so must I
Live, and long think senseless what is left to me.

I want to celebrate; but what for? and sing with others
But so lonely is every godly absent me
This is it, this my crime, I know, it paralyzes my curse
Around the longing, and tosses me where I begin,
That I sit numb throughout the day, and mute like the children
Only more often do the tears slip cold from my eyes.
And the plants of the fields, and the singing of the birds make me dull
For they are with joy also the messengers of heaven
But in my shivering breast the inspired sun,
Darkens to me cool and barren, like the rays of the night.
Ah, void and empty, like prison walls, the sky
Hangs a bending weight above my head.

I knew it differently once! O youth and will prayers
Not bring you back, you never? Does no path lead me back?
Is it to become of me as well, as of the godless, who once
With radiance of eye also sat at the blessed table
But soon glutted, the rapturing guests,
Now fell silent, and now, under the song of the air
Under the blooming earth sleep away, until someday them
The power of a miracle forces them the sleeping,
To return and walk upon the greening ground anew.
Holy breath streams godly through the light shape
When the festival inspires itself, and the waters of love rain themselves
And from heaven drunk, the living river roars,
When down there it resounds, and the night counts her treasures
And up from the streams the buried gold shines.

O but you, who already on the path of parting then
That I sank down before you pointed comfortingly to the beautiful
You, the great to see, and more joyfully to sing the gods,
Quiet like them once silently inspiring taught me
Child of the Gods! you appear to me, and greet me as before
Do you speak again, as then, to me of higher things?
See! I must cry before you, and complain, even now
Thinking of nobler times, for which the soul shames itself.
For so long, so long upon the dull paths of the earth
Have I lived of yours, sought you in error
Joyful spirit of protection! But in vain, and the years ran out
Since intimatingly we saw the evenings shine around us.

Only you, you will your light preserve, o Heroine! In light
And your patience lovingly keeps, o Kindness, you.;
And not once will you be alone; playmates are enough
Where you bloom and rest among the roses of the year.
And the father, he himself, through softly breathing muses
Sends the tender lullabies to you .
Yes! She is still it completely. Still from head to foot
Silently changing, as before, the Athenian floats before me.
And as, friendly spirit! from a joyfully-sensing brow
Blessing and sure your beam falls among the mortals
So you witnessed it to me, and told me it, that I would to others
Tell it again, for the others also do not believe it,
That more undying still, than care and rage, is joy
And a golden day is daily still at an end.

Thus I want, you heavenly one! also to thank, and finally
Breathe from a lighter breast again the singer's prayer.
And as, when with her I, upon the sunny hill stood with her
A god speaks to me enlivening from within the temple
I want life then too! Already it greens. As from a holy lyre
It calls out from the silver mountains of Apollo.
Come! It was a dream. The bleeding wings are
Already healed, the hopes live rejuvenated all
To find greatness is much, but much is left, and who so
Did love, goes, he must, goes the road to the gods.
Accompany us, you hours of consecration! you earnest
Youthfulness. O stay, holy intimations, you
Pious requests. And you inspirations and all you
Good geniuses, who are gladly with lovers
Stay so long with us, until we on common ground
There, where the blessed all are ready to return
There where the eagles are, constellations, the messengers of the father
There where the muses, from where the heroes and lovers are
There or also here upon the thousand islands accompany us
Where Ours blooming first joined together in the garden
Where the songs true, and the springs are longer beautiful
And from anew a year of our soul begins.

Menon's Lament for Diotima