Friday, October 19, 2018
Thursday, October 18, 2018
From Poems, by Stefan George, translated by Carol North Valhope
I journeyed home: such flood of blossoms never
Had welcomed me… a throbbing in the field
And in the grove there was of sleeping powers.
I saw the river, slope and shire enthralled,
And you, my brothers, sun-heirs of the future:
Your eyes, still chase, are harboring a dream,
Once yearning thoughts in you, to blood shall alter…
My sorrow-stricken life to slumber leans,
But graciously does heaven's promise guerdon
The fervent… who may never pace the Realm.
I shall be earth, shall be the grave of heroes,
That sacred sons approach to be fulfilled.
With them the second age comes, love engendered
The world, again shall love engender it.
I spoke the spell, the circle has been woven…
Before the darkness fall, I shall be snatched
Aloft and know: through cherished fields shall wander
On weightless soles, aglow and real, the God.