Poems and Ballads of Heinrich Heine - Part 22
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Part 22

They whisper and murmur Close into mine ear: "Oh foolish young fellow, Thine arm is short and the sky is far off, And the stars are all firmly nailed above With golden nails.

Vain is thy yearning and vain is thy sighing!

The best thou canst do is to go to sleep."

I dreamed a dream about a strange vast heath, All overlaid with white and quiet snow.

And I beneath that white snow buried lay, And slept the cold and lonely sleep of death.

But from the dark and shadowy heavens yonder, Upon my grave the starry eyes looked down.

Those gentle eyes! Triumphantly they sparkled, With still serenity, yet full of love.

VIII. STORM.

The tempest is raging.

It lashes the waves, And the waves foaming and rearing in wrath Tower on high, and the white mountains of water Surge as though they were alive, While the little ship over-climbs them With laborious haste, And suddenly plunges down Into the black, wide-yawning abyss of the tide.

O sea.

Thou mother of beauty, of the foam-engendered one, Grandmother of love, spare me!

Already scenting death, flutters around me The white, ghostly sea-mew, And whets his beak on the mast.

And hungers with glutton-greed for the heart Which resounds with the glory of thy daughter, And which the little rogue, thy grandson, Hath chosen for his play-ground.

In vain are my prayers and entreaties, My cry dies away in the rushing storm, In the battle-tumult of the winds.

They roar and whistle and crackle and howl Like a bedlam of tones.

And amidst them, distinctly I hear Alluring notes of harps, Heart-melting, heart-rending, And I recognize the voice.

Far away on the rocky Scotch coast, Where the little gray castle juts out Over the breaking waves,-- There at the lofty-arched window Stands a beautiful suffering woman, Transparently delicate, and pale as marble.

And she plays on the harp, and she sings, And the wind stirs her flowing locks, And wafts her melancholy song Over the wide, stormy sea.

IX. CALM.

Calm at sea! The sunbeams flicker Falling on the level water, And athwart the liquid jewels Ploughs the ship her emerald furrows.

By the rudder lies the pilot On his stomach, gently snoring, Near the mast, the tarry ship-boy Stoops at work, the sail repairing.

'Neath their s.m.u.t his cheeks are ruddy, Hotly flushed,--his broad mouth twitches.

Full of sadness are the glances Of his eyes so large and lovely.

For the captain stands before him, Raves and scolds and curses: "Rascal!

Little rascal, thou hast robbed me Of a herring from the barrel."

Calm at sea! above the water comes a cunning fish out-peeping.

Warms his little head in sunshine, Merrily his small fins plashing.

But from airy heights, the sea-mew On the little fish darts downward.

Carrying in his beak his booty Back he soars into the azure.

X. AN APPARITION IN THE SEA.

I however lay on the edge of the vessel, And gazed with dreamy eyes Down into the gla.s.s-clear water.

And gazed deeper and deeper, Deep down into the bottom of the sea.

At first like a twilight mist, Then gradually more distinctly colored, Domes of churches and towers arose, And at last, as clear as sunshine, a whole city, An antique Netherland city, Enlivened with people.

Grave men with black mantles, And white ruffs, and chains of honor, And long swords and long faces, Strode over the swarming market-place, Towards the court-house with its high steps, Where the stone effigies of emperors Kept guard with scepter and sword.

Near by, past long rows of houses, Past cas.e.m.e.nts like polished mirrors, And pyramidal, clipped lindens, Wandered, in rustling silks, the young maidens, With slender forms, and flower-faces Decently encircled by their black hoods, And their waving golden hair.

Motley-clad folk in Spanish garb Strut past and salute each other.

Elderly dames In brown, old-fashioned attire, Missal and rosary in hand, Hasten with tripping steps Towards the great cathedral, Drawn thither by the chiming bells, And by the deep-voiced tones of the organ.

And the far-off chimes smite me also With mysterious awe.

Insatiable yearning, profound sadness Steal into my heart, Into my scarcely-healed heart.

I feel as if its wounds Were kissed open by beloved lips, And began to bleed afresh, With hot, red drops, That fall long and slowly, On an old house below there, In the deep city of the sea;-- On an old high-gabled house, Sadly deserted by all living creatures, Save that in the lower window, Sits a maiden, Her head resting on her arms, Like a poor, forsaken child, And I know thee, thou poor forsaken child.

Deep down, deep as the sea, Thou hiddest thyself from me, In a childish freak, And never couldst rise again.

And thou sat'st a stranger among strangers, Through long ages, Whilst I, my soul full of grief,-- I sought thee over the whole earth.

Forever I sought thee, Thou ever-beloved, Thou long-lost, Thou found at last!

I have found thee, and I see once more Thy sweet face, The wise, loyal eyes, The darling smile, And never again will I leave thee, And I come down to thee now, And with wide-stretched arms, I leap down upon thy breast.

But just at the right moment The captain seized me by the foot, And drew me from the edge of the vessel, And cried with a peevish laugh, "Doctor, are you possessed by the devil?"

XI. PURIFICATION.

Remain in thy deep sea-home, Thou insane dream, Which so many a night Hast tortured my heart with a counterfeit happiness, And which now as a vision of the sea Dost threaten me even in the broad daylight.

Remain there below to all eternity!

And I cast moreover down unto thee All my sorrows and sins, And the cap and bells of folly That have jingled so long upon my head.

And the cold, sleek serpent's skin Of dissimulation, Which so long has enwound my soul-- My sick soul, My G.o.d-denying, angel-denying Wretched soul.

Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho! Here comes the breeze.

Up with the sails! They flutter and belly to the wind.

Over the treacherous smooth plain Hastens the ship And the emanc.i.p.ated soul rejoices.

XII. PEACE.

High in heaven stood the sun, Surrounded by white clouds.

The sea was calm; And I lay musing on the helm of the ship, Dreamily musing, and, half-awake, Half asleep, I saw Christ, The Savior of the world.

In waving white raiment He strode gigantically tall Over land and sea.

His head touched heaven, He spread his hands in benediction Over land and sea; And for a heart in his bosom He bore the sun, The red fiery sun, And the red, fiery sun-heart Showered its beams of grace, And its pure love-bestowing light, That illumines and warms Over land and sea.

Peals of festal bells drew hither and thither, As swans might draw by chains of roses The smooth-gliding vessel, And sportively drew it to the verdant banks, Where folk dwelt in a lofty-towered Overhanging town.

Oh miracle of peace! How quiet was the town!

Hushed was the dull murmur of chattering, sweltering Trade.

And through the clean, resounding streets, Walked people clad in white, Bearing branches of palm.

And when two such would meet, They looked at each other with ardent sympathy And, trembling with love and self denial, Kissed each other's brow, And glanced upward Towards the sun-heart of the Savior, Which in glad propitiation irradiated downward Its crimson blood: And thrice they exclaimed, "Praised be Jesus Christ!"

Couldst thou have conceived this vision, What wouldst thou have given, Most dearly beloved,-- Thou who art so weak in body and mind, And so strong in faith!

Thou who so singly honorest the Trinity, Who kissest daily the pug and the reins and the paws Of thy lofty protectress, And hastenest with canting devotion To the Aulic councilor and to the councilor of justice, And at last to the council of the Realm In the pious city, Where sand and faith flourish, And the long-suffering waters of the sacred Spree Purify souls and dilute tea.

Couldst thou have conceived this vision Most dearly beloved, Thou hadst borne it to the lofty minnows of the market place, With thy pale blinking countenance, Rapt with piety and humility; And their high mightinesses Ravished and trembling with ecstacy, Would have fallen praying with thee on their knees, And their eyes glowing with beat.i.tude, Would have promised thee an increase of salary, Of a hundred thalers Prussian currency.

And thou wouldst have stammered with folded hands, "Praised be Jesus Christ!"