Thrilling Moments

O remain

"O remain, dear one, I love you,
Stay with me in my fair land,
For your dreamings and your longings
Only I can understand.

You, who like a prince reclining
Over the pool with heaven starred;
You who gaze up from the water
With such earnest deep regard.

Stay, for where the lapping wavelets
Shake the tall and tasseled grass,
I will make you hear in secret
How the furtive chamois pass.

Oh, I see you wrapped in magic,
Hear your murmur low and sweet,
As you break the shallow water
With your slender naked feet;

See you thus amidst the ripples
Which the moon´s pale beams engage,
And your years seem but an instant,
And each instant seems an age."

Thus spoke the woods in soft entreaty;
Arching boughs above me bent,
But I whistled high, and laughing
Out into the open went.

Now though even I roamed that country
How could I its charm recall ...
Where has boyhood gone, I wonder,
With its pool and woods and all ?







Why 're you swaying forest trees ...


- Why 're you swaying forest trees,
Without rain and without winds,
Touching the earth with your limbs ?
- Why should I not swing in tune,
When my time is ending soon !
Day is waning, night is growing
And my foliage is blowing.
Sideway wind that hits my leaves
Drives away my vocalists
Blows a broadside wind ajar -
Winter's here, summer's afar -
Why should I not bend and sway,
When the birds pass anyway !
Over treetop twigs away
Pass the swallow flocks their way
Carrying my thoughts astray
And my luck along the way.
And they go, in rows they fly,
Clouding the horizon sky
And they go like fleeting time,
Fluttering their wings they climb
And they leave me nude and bleak,
Wilted, blunt, and numb and weak,
With my longing left alone,
To find solace on my own.






Murmur of the Forest
On the pond bright sparks are falling,
Wavelets in the sunlight glisten;
Gazing from the woods with rapture,
Do I let my spirit capture
Drowsiness, and lie and listen...
           Quails are calling.
All the silent water sleeping
Of the streams and of the rivers;
Only where the sun is shining
Thousand circles there designing
As with fright its surface shivers,
           Swiftly leaping.
Pipe the birds midst woods concealing,
Which of us their language guessing?
Birds of endless kinds and races
Chirp amidst its leafy places
And what wisdom they expressing
           And what feeling.
Asks the cuckoo: "Who has seen
Our belovèd summer idol,
Beautiful beyond all praising
Through her languid lashes gazing,
Our most lovely, tender, bridal,
           Forest queen?"
Bends the lime with gentle care
Her sweet body to embower;
In the breeze his branches singing
Lift her in their arms upswinging,
While a hundred blossoms shower
           On her hair.
Asks the brooklet as it flows
"Where has gone my lovely lady?
She, who evening hour beguiling,
In my silver surface smiling,
Broke its mirror deep and shady
           With her toes?"
I replied: "O forest, she
Comes no more, no more returning !
Only you, great oaks, still dreaming
Violet eyes, like flowers gleaming,
That the summer through were yearning
           Just for me."
Happy then, alone we twain,
Through the forest brush-wood striding !
Sweet enchanted tale of wonder
That the darkness broke asunder...
Dear, wherever you'd be hiding,
           Come again !

Eve on the hill

Dreary the horn sounds in the eve on the hill,
Sheepflocks return, stars on their way twinkle still,
Watersprings weep murmuring clear, and I see
Under a tree, love, thou art waiting for me.
Holy and pure passes the moon on the sky,
Moist seem the stars born from the vault clear and high,
Longing thine eyes look from afar to divine,
Heaving thy breast, pensive thy head doth recline.
Tired with their toil, peasants come back from the field,
From the old church, labourer's comfort and shield,
Voices of bells thrill the whole sky high above;
Struck is my heart, trembling and burning with love.
Ah! very soon quietness steals over all,
Ah! very soon hasten shall I to thy call,
Under the tree, there I shall sit the whole night,
Telling thee, love, thou art my only delight.
Cheek press'd to cheek, there in sweet ecstasy we,
Falling asleep under the old locust-tree,
Smiling in dream, seem in a heaven to live,
For such a night who his whole life would not give?

One Wish Alone Have I

One wish alone have I:
In some calm land
Beside the sea to die;
Upon its strand;
That I forever sleep,
The forest near,
A heaven clear,
Stretched over the peaceful deep.
No candles shine,
Nor tomb I need, instead
Let them for me a bed
Of twigs entwine.

That no one weeps my end,
Nor for me grieves,
But let the autumn lend
Tongues to the leaves,
When brooklet ripples fall
With murmuring sound,
And moon is found
Among the pine-trees tall,
While softly rings
The wind its trembling chime
And over me the lime
Its blossom flings.

As I will then no more
A wanderer be,
Let them with fondness store
My memory.
And Lucifer the while,
Above the pine.
Good comrade mine,
Will on me gently smile;
In mournful mood,
The sea sings sad refrain ...
And I be earth again
In solitude.

To The Star

To the star up in ethereal heights
There's a path so far to stray,
Thousands of years might have its lights
Been wandering 'til today.

Maybe it perished long ago
On its way down through blue space,
This moment yet you come to know
Its shine upon your face.

The icon, gently soaring high,
Of that star now long since dead:
Could never spot it while alive,
Now gone - we see it yet.

Alike when our desire grown old
And lost in deepest night,
The light of faded love now cold
Still reaches our sight.

Ode (in ancient meter)

Hardly had I thought I should learn to perish;
Ever young, enwrapped in my robe I wandered,
Raising dreamy eyes to the star styled often
Solitude's symbol.

All at once, however, you crossed my pathway -
Suffering - you, painfully sweet, yet torture...
To the lees I drank the delight of dying -
Pitiless torment.

Sadly racked, I'm burning alive like Nessus,
Or like Hercules by his garment poisoned;
Nor can I extinguish my flames with every
Billow of oceans.

By my own illusion consumed I'm wailing,
On my own grim pyre in flames I'm melting...
Can I hope to rise again like the Phoenix
Bird from the ashes?

May all tempting eyes vanish from my pathway,
Come back to my breast, you indifferent sorrow!
So that I may quietly die, restore me
To my own being!

Down Where The Lonely Poplars Grow

Down where the lonely poplars grow
How often have I erred;
My steps that all the neighbours know
You only have not heard.

Towards your window lighted through
How oft my gaze has flown;
A world entire my secret knew
You only have not known.

A word, a murmur of reply
How often did I pray !
What matters then if I should die,
Enough to live that day;

To know one hour of tenderness,
One hour of lover's night;
To hear you whisper's soft caress
One hour, then come what might!

Had you but granted me a glance
That was not filles with scorn,
Out of its shining radiance
A new star had been born.

You would have lived through lives untold
Beyond the ends of time;
O deity with arms so cold,
O marble form sublime!

An idol of some pagan lore
As now no more is seen,
Come down to us from times yore,
From times that long have been.

My worship was of ages gone,
Sad eyes by faith beguiled,
Each generation handed on
From father unto child.

But now I very little care
To walk along that lane,
Nor heed the face I found so fair
Looks out for me in vain;

For you are like them all today
In bearing and in guise,
And I but look on your display
With cold and lifeless eyes.

You should have known to value right
With wondering intent,
And lit your candela at night
To Love that God had sent.