On the Transitory: Final Piece



All Rights Reserved © mmartel∞

Zuweilen kommen niegeliebte Frauen
Im Traum als kleine Mädchen uns entgegen
Und sind unsäglich rührend anzuschauen,

Als wären sie mit uns auf fernen Wegen
Einmal an einem Abend lang gegangen,
Indes die Wipfel atmend sich bewegen

Und Duft herunterfällt und Nacht und Bangen,
Und längs des Weges, unsres Wegs, des dunkeln,
Im Abendschein die stummen Weiher prangen

Und, Spiegel unsrer Sehnsucht, traumhaft funkeln,
Und allen leisen Worten, allem Schweben
Der Abendluft und erstem Sternefunkeln

Die Seelen schwesterlich und tief erbeben
Und traurig sind und voll Triumphgepränge
Vor tiefer Ahnung, die das große Leben

Begreift und seine Herrlichkeit und Strenge.

Sometimes the women who were never loved
Appear to us in dreams as little girls,
Unutterably touching to behold,

As though with us upon a distant path
One time at evening quite a while ago,
All while the trees bestir themselves with sighs

And fragrance settles down and night and fears,
Along the path, our very path, unlit,
In evening luster twinkle silent ponds

And, mirror to our longing, dreamlike wink,
And all the gentle words, all things afloat
In evening air as well the first star-gleam

Like sisters do, their souls profoundly shake
And they are sad but full of jubilance
Before an inner thought, that Life Itself

Perceives its very majesty and strength.


Author: mmartel

"If he's honest, he'll steal; if he's human, he'll murder; if he's faithful, he'll deceive. Being at a loss to resolve these questions, I am resolved to leave them without any resolution." I have so much to say to you that I am afraid I shall tell you nothing."

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