SORROWS OF YOUNG WERTHER
by Goethe
How often I lie down in my bed with a wish, and even a hope, that I may never awaken again.
And in the morning, when I open my eyes, I behold the sun once more, and am wretched. If I were whimsical, I might blame the weather, or an acquaintance, or some personal disappointment, for my discontented mind; and then this insupportable load of trouble would not rest entirely upon myself.
But, alas! I feel it too sadly. I am alone the cause of my own woe, am I not? Truly, my own bosom contains the source of all my sorrow, as it previously contained the source of all my pleasure. Am I not the same being who once enjoyed an excess of happiness, who, at every step, saw paradise open before him, and whose heart was ever expanded toward the whole world?
And this heart is now dead, no sentiment can revive it; my eyes are dry; and my senses, no more refreshed by the influence of soft tears, wither and consume my brain. I suffer much, for I have lost the only charm of life: that active, sacred power which created worlds around me, — it is no more.
When I look from my window at the distant hills, and behold the
morning sun breaking through the mists, and illuminating the country around, which is still wrapped in silence, whilst the soft stream winds gently through the willows, which have shed their leaves; when glorious nature displays all her beauties before me, and her wondrous prospects are ineffectual to extract one tear of joy from my withered heart, I feel that in such a moment I stand like a reprobate before heaven, hardened, insensible, and unmoved.
8 comments
Werther is one of my favorite books… Great choice.
actually i copy-pasted it directly from your post, i had kept it bookmarked. it was your post that introduced me to Goethe…i’m so thankful to you for that.
LOL really? That’s nice! You should read the whole book… It’s very good. And Goethe’s poems are beautiful (and sad).
…Now my day got 0,01% better since I introduced someone to Goethe’s work. Feeling proud *proud*.
🙂
yes, sure.
The Sorrows of Young Werther is one of my favorites, too. I also enjoyed Faust. I have a copy with the German original and an English translation side by side, so it’s pretty great.
The Dedication in the beginning of Faust is beautiful:
“You come back, wavering shapes, out of the past
In which you first appeared to clouded eyes.
Should I attempt this time to you fast?
Does this old dream still thrill a heart so wise?
You crowd? You press? Have, then, your way at last.
As from the mist around me you arise;
My breast is stirred and feels with youthful pain
The magic breath that hovers round your train.
With you return pictures of joyous days,
Shadows that I once loved again draw near;
Like a primeval tale, half lost in haze,
First love and friendship also reappear;
Grief is renewed, laments retrace the maze
Of Life’s strange labyrinthian career,
Recalling dear ones who, by fortune’s treason,
Robbed of fair hours, passed before my season.
They will not hear me as I sing these songs,
The parted souls to whom I sang the first;
Gone is that first response, in vain one longs
For friendly crowds that have long been dispersed.
My grief resounds to strangers, unknown throngs
Applaud it, and my anxious heart would burst.
Whoever used to praise my poem’s worth,
If they still live, stray scattered through the earth.
And I am seized by long forgotten yearning
For that kingdom of spirits, still and grave;
To flowing song I see my feelings turning,
As from aeolian harps, wave upon wave;
A shudder grips me, tear on tear falls burning,
Soft grows my heart, once so severe and brave;
What I possess, seems far away to me,
And what is gone becomes reality.”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
yurp. this whole passage is me. good post quaero
Beautiful.