November 28, 1799
Yet kind reluctance separates from your eye
This year, and the winter sky at evening
Yet kind reluctance separates from your eye
This year, and the winter sky at evening
Shines in
Hesperian mildness on
Your gardens, the poetic, evergreen.
And since your party I have pondered and thought,
What to give you as thanks, yet it lingered there
On the floral paths, waiting for you
The flowering crown of what you'll become.
But others prize you, high spirit, the greater
This more festive time, for the thunder resounds
All the way down the mountains, see? And
How clear, like the quiet stars, it goes out,
From long doubts come pure shapes; so it seems to me;
And lonely, O Princess, the heart of the free,
Born to a fortune wanted no more;
Joined in laurel with the worthy hero
The beautifully matured can be genuine;
Your gardens, the poetic, evergreen.
And since your party I have pondered and thought,
What to give you as thanks, yet it lingered there
On the floral paths, waiting for you
The flowering crown of what you'll become.
But others prize you, high spirit, the greater
This more festive time, for the thunder resounds
All the way down the mountains, see? And
How clear, like the quiet stars, it goes out,
From long doubts come pure shapes; so it seems to me;
And lonely, O Princess, the heart of the free,
Born to a fortune wanted no more;
Joined in laurel with the worthy hero
The beautifully matured can be genuine;
The wise men and women
as well, for it
Has worth, the unseen; the ancient ones
Look on from their rarefied life, solemn.
Shallow seems the dreaming singer to himself,
Like a child idly plucking at a lyre,
When from the noble’s joy, from the ply
And severe of the power awakened.
But I’ve glorified your name in song; the hard
Augusta! Dare I celebrate; my trade is
To praise the lofty, and so goes the
Has worth, the unseen; the ancient ones
Look on from their rarefied life, solemn.
Shallow seems the dreaming singer to himself,
Like a child idly plucking at a lyre,
When from the noble’s joy, from the ply
And severe of the power awakened.
But I’ve glorified your name in song; the hard
Augusta! Dare I celebrate; my trade is
To praise the lofty, and so goes the
Language
of God and the thanks in my heart.
O that this happy day of your birth will I
Begin as well my
age, that finally too
I’ll become a
song within your groves;
Noble! Prosper, you are worthy of it.
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Der Prinzessin Auguste von Homburg
Den 28. Nov. 1799
Noch freundlichzögernd scheidet vom Auge dir
Das Jahr, und in
hesperischer Milde glänzt
Der Winterhimmel
über deinen
Gärten, den
dichtrischen, immergrünen.
Und da ich deines Festes gedacht' und sann,
Was ich dir dankend
reichte, da weilten noch
Am Pfade Blumen,
daß sie dir zur
Blühenden
Krone, du Edle, würden.
Doch andres beut dir, Größeres, hoher Geist!
Die festlichere
Zeit, denn es hallt hinab
Am Berge das
Gewitter, sieh! und
Klar, wie die
ruhigen Sterne, gehen
Aus langem Zweifel reine Gestalten auf;
So dünkt es mir;
und einsam, o Fürstin! ist
Das Herz der
Freigebornen wohl nicht
Länger im
eigenen Glück; denn würdig
Gesellt im Lorbeer ihm der Heroë sich,
Der schöngereifte,
echte; die Weisen auch,
Die Unsern, sind
es wert; sie blicken
Still aus der
Höhe des Lebens, die ernsten Alten.
Geringe dünkt der träumende Sänger sich,
Und Kindern gleich
am müßigen Saitenspiel,
Wenn ihn der
Edlen Glück, wenn ihn die
Tat und der
Ernst der Gewalt'gen aufweckt.
Doch herrlicht mir dein Name das Lied; dein Fest
Augusta! durft' ich
feiern; Beruf ist mirs,
Zu rühmen
Höhers, darum gab die
Sprache der
Gott und den Dank ins Herz mir.
O daß von diesem freudigen Tage mir
Auch meine Zeit
beginne, daß endlich auch
Mir ein Gesang
in deinen Hainen,
Edle!
gedeihe, der deiner wert sei.
