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CLASSIC POETRY

· Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: Der Sänger · Adah Menken: Aspiration · Wild nights – Wild nights! by Emily Dickinson · Adah Menken: A Memory · Water by Ralph Waldo Emerson · This Little Bag poem by Jane Austen · Masaoka Shiki: Haiku · Gertrud Kolmar: Soldatenmädchen · Adah Menken: Karazah To Karl · I’m Nobody! Who are you? by Emily Dickinson · Gertrud Kolmar: Der Brief · I Am The Reaper Poem by William Ernest Henley

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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: Der Sänger

Der Sänger

Was hör ich draußen vor dem Tor,
Was auf der Brücke schallen?
Laß den Gesang vor unserm Ohr
Im Saale widerhallen!
Der König sprachs, der Page lief;
Der Knabe kam, der König rief:
Laßt mir herein den Alten!

Gegrüßet seid mir, edle Herrn,
Gegrüßt ihr, schöne Damen!
Welch reicher Himmel, Stern bei Stern!
Wer kennet ihre Namen?
Im Saal voll Pracht und Herrlichkeit
Schließt, Augen, euch; hier ist nicht Zeit,
Sich staunend zu ergetzen.

Der Sänger drückt’ die Augen ein
Und schlug in vollen Tönen;
Die Ritter schauten mutig drein,
Und in den Schoß die Schönen.
Der König, dem das Lied gefiel,
Ließ, ihn zu ehren für sein Spiel,
Eine goldne Kette holen.

Die goldne Kette gib mir nicht,
Die Kette gib den Rittern,
Vor deren kühnem Angesicht
Der Feinde Lanzen splittern;
Gib sie dem Kanzler, den du hast,
Und laß ihn noch die goldne Last
Zu andern Lasten tragen.

Ich singe, wie der Vogel singt,
Der in den Zweigen wohnet;
Das Lied, das aus der Kehle dringt,
Ist Lohn, der reichlich lohnet.
Doch darf ich bitten, bitt ich eins:
Laß mir den besten Becher Weins
In purem Golde reichen.

Er setzt’ ihn an, er trank ihn aus:
O Trank voll süßer Labe!
O wohl dem hochbeglückten Haus,
Wo das ist kleine Gabe!
Ergehts euch wohl, so denkt an mich,
Und danket Gott so warm, als ich
Für diesen Trunk euch danke.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(1749-1832)
Der Sänger

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: # Music Archive, Archive G-H, Archive G-H, Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, J.W. von Goethe


Adah Menken: Aspiration

Aspiration

Poor, impious Soul! that fixes its high hopes
In the dim distance, on a throne of clouds,
And from the morning’s mist would make the ropes
To draw it up amid acclaim of crowds—
Beware! That soaring path is lined with shrouds;
And he who braves it, though of sturdy breath,
May meet, half way, the avalanche and death!
O poor young Soul!—whose year-devouring glance
Fixes in ecstasy upon a star,
Whose feverish brilliance looks a part of earth,
Yet quivers where the feet of angels are,
And seems the future crown in realms afar—
Beware! A spark thou art, and dost but see
Thine own reflection in Eternity!

Adah Isaacs Menken
(1835 – 1868)
Aspiration

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Archive Tombeau de la jeunesse, Archive M-N, Archive M-N, Menken, Adah, THEATRE


Wild nights – Wild nights! by Emily Dickinson

Wild nights
– Wild nights!

Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea!
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee!

Emily Dickinson
(1830—1886)
Wild nights – Wild nights!

• fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Dickinson, Emily


Adah Menken: A Memory

A Memory

I see her yet, that dark-eyed one,
Whose bounding heart God folded up
In His, as shuts when day is done,
Upon the elf the blossom’s cup.
On many an hour like this we met,
And as my lips did fondly greet her,
I blessed her as love’s amulet:
Earth hath no treasure, dearer, sweeter.

The stars that look upon the hill,
And beckon from their homes at night,
Are soft and beautiful, yet still
Not equal to her eyes of light.
They have the liquid glow of earth,
The sweetness of a summer even,
As if some Angel at their birth
Had dipped them in the hues of Heaven.

They may not seem to others sweet,
Nor radiant with the beams above,
When first their soft, sad glances meet
The eyes of those not born for love;
Yet when on me their tender beams
Are turned, beneath love’s wide control,
Each soft, sad orb of beauty seems
To look through mine into my soul.

I see her now that dark-eyed one,
Whose bounding heart God folded up
In His, as shuts when day is done,
Upon the elf the blossom’s cup.
Too late we met, the burning brain,
The aching heart alone can tell,
How filled our souls of death and pain
When came the last, sad word, Farewell!

Adah Isaacs Menken
(1835 – 1868)
A Memory

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Archive Tombeau de la jeunesse, Archive M-N, Archive M-N, Menken, Adah, THEATRE


Water by Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Water

The water understands
Civilization well;
It wets my foot, but prettily,
It chills my life, but wittily,
It is not disconcerted,
It is not broken-hearted:
Well used, it decketh joy,
Adorneth, doubleth joy:
Ill used, it will destroy,
In perfect time and measure
With a face of golden pleasure
Elegantly destroy.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
(1803 – 1882)
Water

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *Archive African American Literature, Archive E-F, Archive E-F, Emerson, Ralph Waldo


This Little Bag poem by Jane Austen

This little bag

This little bag I hope will prove
To be not vainly made–
For, if you should a needle want
It will afford you aid.
And as we are about to part
T’will serve another end,
For when you look upon the Bag
You’ll recollect your friend

Jane Austen
(1775 – 1817)
This little bag
Poem

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive A-B, Archive A-B, Austen, Jane, Austen, Jane, Jane Austen


Masaoka Shiki: Haiku

Haiku

After killing
a spider, how lonely I feel
in the cold of night!

Masaoka Shiki
(1867-1902)
Haiku

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: #Editors Choice Archiv, Archive S-T, Archive S-T, Shiki, Masaoka


Gertrud Kolmar: Soldatenmädchen

Soldatenmädchen

Und wenn du Männer zwingen willst,
So mußt du rasch dich rüsten
Und, eh’ im West der Schnee noch schmilzt,
Marschier’n nach Frankreichs Küsten.
Und wenn du Mädchen zwingen willst,
So weck’ nur dein Gelüsten,
Und ruh’ heut’ nacht, daß du es stillst,
An meinen weißen Brüsten.

Und was der Leute Mund drob’ red’t,
Den Spott will ich ertragen;
Wenn dir der Feind nicht widersteht,
Wie sollt’s dein Lieb wohl wagen ?
Ein heißes Herz ist noch kein Fehl,
Ein’ tapfre Seel’ kein Schaden,
Und wenn sich fanden Herz und Seel’,
Wird uns der Himmel gnaden.

Denn so ist dein und mein Geschick:
Dir schuf der Schmied die Waffen;
Den ros’gen Mund, den dunklen Blick,
Die hat mir Gott geschaffen.
Der Schuster hat die Schuh’ gemacht,
Die deinen Weg betraten,
Vom Schneider hab’ ich meine Tracht,
Mein Kindlein vom Soldaten.

Gertrud Kolmar
(1894 – 1943)
Soldatenmädchen

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *War Poetry Archive, Archive K-L, Archive K-L, Kolmar, Gertrud


Adah Menken: Karazah To Karl

Karazah To Karl

Come back to me! my life is young,
My soul is scarcely on her way,
And all the starry songs she’s sung,
Are prelude to a grander lay.
Come back to me!

Let this song-born soul receive thee,
Glowing its fondest truth to prove;
Why so early did’st thou leave me,
Are our heaven-grand life of love?
Come back to me!

My burning lips shall set their seal
On our betrothal bond to-night,
While whispering murmurs will reveal
How souls can love in God’s own light.
Come back to me!

Come back to me! The stars will be
Silent witnesses of our bliss,
And all the past shall seem to thee
But a sweet dream to herald this!
Come back to me!

Adah Isaacs Menken
(1835 – 1868)
Karazah To Karl

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Archive Tombeau de la jeunesse, Archive M-N, Archive M-N, Menken, Adah, THEATRE


I’m Nobody! Who are you? by Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody!
Who are you?

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Dont tell! they’d banish us – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell your name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

Emily Dickinson
(1830—1886)
I’m Nobody! Who are you?

• fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive C-D, Archive C-D, Dickinson, Emily


Gertrud Kolmar: Der Brief

Der Brief

Ein Fetzen Weh, vom Wind daher gefegt,
Das war er nun.
Ich hab’ ihn still ins heil’ge Buch gelegt,
Zu ruhn – zu ruhn—–

Und die vergilbten Blätter schlössen ihn
So linde ein,
Wie Totenhülle, weißer denn Jasmin,
Der braune Schrein.

So fern der Unrast, die da draußen tost,
Hat er geruht.
Und war der Klage voll und gab mir Trost
Er war so gut—–

Gertrud Kolmar
(1894 – 1943)
Der Brief

•fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *War Poetry Archive, Archive K-L, Archive K-L, Kolmar, Gertrud


I Am The Reaper Poem by William Ernest Henley

I Am The Reaper

I am the Reaper.
All things with heedful hook
Silent I gather.
Pale roses touched with the spring,
Tall corn in summer,
Fruits rich with autumn,
and frail winter blossoms—
Reaping, still reaping—
All things with heedful hook
Timely I gather.

I am the Sower.
All the unbodied life
Runs through my seed-sheet.
Atom with atom wed,
Each quickening the other,
Fall through my hands,
ever changing, still changeless.
Ceaselessly sowing,
Life, incorruptible life,
Flows from my seed-sheet.

Maker and breaker,
I am the ebb and the flood,
Here and Hereafter,
Sped through the tangle and coil
Of infinite nature,
Viewless and soundless
I fashion all being.
Taker and giver,
I am the womb and the grave,
The Now and the Ever

William Ernest Henley
(1849—1903)
I Am The Reaper

• fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive G-H, Archive G-H, Henley, William Ernest


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