The Titan is unconquered still!
No change, no pause, no hope! Yet I endure.
I ask the earth, have not the mountains felt?
I ask yon heaven, the all-beholding sun,
Has it not seen? The sea, in storm or calm,
Heaven's ever-changing shadow, spread below,
Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!
The crawling glaciers pierce me with the spears
Of their moon-freezing crystals; the bright chains
Eat with their burning cold into my bones.
Heaven's winged hound, polluting from thy lips
His beak in poison not his own, tears up
My heart; and shapeless sights come wandering by,
The ghastly people of the realm of dream,
Mocking me and the earthquake fiends are charged
To wrench the rivets from my quivering wounds.
In Death they were not divided.
In a green grove
Sat a loving pair;
Fell a bough from above,
Struck them dead there.
Happy for them
That both died together;
So neither was left
To mourn for the other.
Τέτλαθί μοι, κραδίη.
Οὐκ ἀμπνοή τις, οὐ μεταλλαγὴ πόνων,
οὐκ ἐλπίς· ἀλλ ̓ ἔθ ̓ οὐμὸς ἀντέχει βίος
καὶ μὴν πέδον γῆς τῆσδ ̓ ἐγὼ μαρτύρομαι
οίων ὄρειοι πρῶνες ᾔσθηνται κακῶν
καὶ τὸν πανόπτην τόνδε δέρκεσθαι καλῷ
ἐν οὐρανῷ φλέγοντος ἡλίου κύκλον,
καὶ πόντον εὕδοντ ̓ ἢ ζάλῃ κινούμενον
ἀείρρυτον μόρφωμα τῶν ἄνω τόπων
ἔνερθ ̓ ἀναπτυχθέντα μῶν ἐμὰς δύας
καὶ κώφ ̓ ὅμως τὰ κύματ ̓ οὐκ ἀκήκοεν;
αἰεὶ μαραίνει μ' ἄλγος οὐκ ἀνασχετόν.
λόγχαις δ' ἀτρύτοις ὡς, ἐφέρπουσαι λάθρα,
κρυσταλλοπηγές μ' αἵδε κεντοῦσιν ῥοαί·
δεσμοὶ δὲ παχνωθέντες ὡς πυρὸς γνάθῳ
δάπτουσ ̓ ἐς ἧπαρ σάρκας ἐκθοινώμενοι
Ζεῦ, σὺς δ ̓ ἀμύσσει καρδίαν πτηνὸς κύων
ἴῳ μιαίνων χεῖλος αἱματοσταγές
τῶν σῶν ῥέοντι κοὐκ ἀπ ̓ οἰκείων γνάθων.
ὄψεις δ ̓ ἄμορφοι πολυπλανεῖς φοιτῶσ ̓ ἀεί,
τὰ σμέρὸν ὀνείρων δυσπρόσοπτα φάσματα,
ἐπεγγελώσαι· τοῖς δ ̓ ἔνερθε δαίμοσιν,
οἳ γῆν σαλεύουσ ̓, ἑλκέων φονορρύτων
πέδας ἀποσπᾶν διατόρους ἐντέλλεται.
Εν νάπῃ δύο συγκλιθέντ ̓ ἐραστὰ
Αἴδῃ δῶκε πεσὼν ἄνωθεν ὄζος
μάκαρες θανόντες δύ ̓ ὁμῶς
οὐδέτερος ποθοῦντ ̓ οὐδέτερον ποθεῖ.
A. Will sich Hektor ewig von mir wenden,
Wo Achill mit den unnahbar'n Händen
Dem Patroklus schrecklich Opfer bringt?
Wer wird fünftig deinen Kleinen lehren
Speere werfen und die Götter ehren,
Wenn der finstre Orkus dich verschlingt?
H. Theures Weib, gebiete deinen Thränen;
Nach der Feldschlacht ist mein feurig Sehnen;
Diese Arme schüßen Pergamus.
Kämpfend für den heil'gen Herd der Götter
Fall' ich, und des Vaterlandes Retter
Steig' ich nieder zu dem styg'schen Fluß.
A. Nimmer lausch' ich deiner Waffen Schalle,
Müßig liegt dein Eisen in der Halle,
Priam's großer Heldenstamm verdirbt.
Du wirst hingeh'n, wo kein Tag mehr scheinet,
Der Cocytus durch die Wüsten weinet,
Deine Liebe in dem Lethe stirbt.
H. All mein Sehnen will ich, all mein Denken,
In des Lethe stillen Strom versenken,
Horch! der Wilde tobt schon an den Mauern,
Gürte mir das Schwert um, laß das Trauern!
Hektors Liebe stirbt im Lethe nicht.
The Sleep of Death.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied:
We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.
Servetque Sepulcro.
A. Ergo non rediturus ibit Hector
Qva diris manibus furens Achilles
Patroclum satiat cruore fuso?
Heu qvis filiolum tuum docebit
Hastam coniicere et deos vereri,
Cum te nigra palus vorarit Orci?
H. Qvin fletum cohibes, amata coniux?
Ardor me rapit acer ad duellum:
Nostri Pergama sustinent lacerti.
Propugnans veterum focis deorum
Occumbo, et patriae salutis auctor
Demittor Stygio beatus amni.
A. Numqvam nota crepant mihi arma: in aula
Pendet lancea deses; inclutamqve
Sternit Priamidum ruina gentem.
Ibis qvo neqve lux adit diei,
Cocytusqve ululans meat, tuumqve
Lethaei latices tegunt amorem.
H. Qvidqvid mens agitat, cupit, laborat,
Hoc Lethaea premet qvies; amorem
Lethe nulla valet meum vorare.
Audin, moenibus instat illa Erinys:
Ferro hoc cinge latus. Qvid usqve ploras?
Lethaeis amat Hector in tenebris.
Consanguineus Leti Sopor.
Ελπὶς μὲν προσιοῦσα κενὸν φόβον ἐξαπάτησεν, Ελπίδα δ ̓ αὖτε κενὴν ἐξαπάτησε φόβος. Αὐτίκα γὰρ θνήσκειν ἔφαμεν φίλοι, ἡ δ ̓ ἐκάθευδε Δεύτερον αὖθ ̓ εὕδειν, ἡ δ' ἄρα κάρτ ̓ ἔθανεν.
I saw thee weep.
I saw thee weep: the big bright tear
Came o'er that eye of blue;
And then methought it did appear
A violet dropping dew:
I saw thee smile: the sapphire's blaze
Beside thee ceased to shine;
It could not match the living rays
That filled that glance of thine.
As clouds from yonder sun receive
A deep and mellow dye,
Which scarce the shade of coming eve
Can banish from the sky;
Those smiles into the moodiest mind
Their own pure joy impart;
Their sunshine leaves a glow behind
That lightens o'er the heart.
Up in the Morning.
If thou art sleeping, maiden,
Awake and open thy door:
'Tis the break of day, and we must away
O'er meadow and mount and moor.
Wait not to find thy slippers,
But come with thy naked feet:
We shall have to pass through the dewy grass
And waters wide and fleet.
Warum kann der lebendige Geist dem Geist nicht erscheinen? Spricht die Seele, so spricht, ach! die Seele nicht mehr.
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