Poems List
Thinking Of A Friend At Night
In this evil year, autumn comes early...
I walk by night in the field, alone, the rain clatters,
The wind on my hat...And you? And you, my friend?
You are standing--maybe--and seeing the sickle moon
Move in a small arc over the forests
And bivouac fire, red in the black valley.
You are lying--maybe--in a straw field and sleeping
And dew falls cold on your forehead and battle jacket.
It's possible tonight you're on horseback,
The farthest outpost, peering along, with a gun in your fist,
Smiling, whispering, to your exhausted horse.
Maybe--I keep imagining--you are spending the night
As a guest in a strange castle with a park
And writing a letter by candlelight, and tapping
On the piano keys by the window,
Groping for a sound...
--And maybe
You are already silent, already dead, and the day
Will shine no longer into your beloved
Serious eyes, and your beloved brown hand hangs wilted,
And your white forehead split open--Oh, if only,
If only, just once, that last day, I had shown you, told you
Something of my love, that was too timid to speak!
But you know me, you know...and, smiling, you nod
Tonight in front of your strange castle,
And you nod to your horse in the drenched forest,
And you nod to your sleep to your harsh clutter of straw,
And think about me, and smile.
And maybe,
Maybe some day you will come back from the war,
and take a walk with me some evening,
And somebody will talk about Longwy, Luttich, Dammerkirch,
And smile gravely, and everything will be as before,
And no one will speak a word of his worry,
Of his worry and tenderness by night in the field,
Of his love. And with a single joke
You will frighten away the worry, the war, the uneasy nights,
The summer lightning of shy human friendship,
Into the cool past that will never come back.
Translated by James Wright
Submitted by Holt
Stages
As every flower fades and as all youth
Departs, so life at every stage,
So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,
Blooms in its day and may not last forever.
Since life may summon us at every age
Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,
Be ready bravely and without remorse
To find new light that old ties cannot give.
In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
Serenely let us move to distant places
And let no sentiments of home detain us.
The Cosmic Spirit seeks not to restrain us
But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.
If we accept a home of our own making,
Familiar habit makes for indolence.
We must prepare for parting and leave-taking
Or else remain the slave of permanence.
Even the hour of our death may send
Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,
And life may summon us to newer races.
So be it, heart: bid farewell without end.
Lying In Grass
Is this everything now, the quick delusions of flowers,
And the down colors of the bright summer meadow,
The soft blue spread of heaven, the bees' song,
Is this everything only a god's
Groaning dream,
The cry of unconscious powers for deliverance?
The distant line of the mountain,
That beautifully and courageously rests in the blue,
Is this too only a convulsion,
Only the wild strain of fermenting nature,
Only grief, only agony, only meaningless fumbling,
Never resting, never a blessed movement?
No! Leave me alone, you impure dream
Of the world in suffering!
The dance of tiny insects cradles you in an evening radiance,
The bird's cry cradles you,
A breath of wind cools my forehead
With consolation.
Leave me alone, you unendurably old human grief!
Let it all be pain.
Let it all be suffering, let it be wretched-
But not this one sweet hour in the summer,
And not the fragrance of the red clover,
And not the deep tender pleasure
In my soul.
Translated by James Wright
Submitted by Holt
In Secret We Thirst
Graceful, spiritual,
with the gentleness of arabesques
our life is similar
to the existence of fairies
that spin in soft cadence
around nothingness
to which we sacrifice
the here and now
Dreams of beauty, youthful joy
like a breath in pure harmony
with the depth of your young surface
where sparkles the longing for the night
for blood and barbarity
In the emptiness, spinning, without aims or needs
dance free our lives
always ready for the game
yet, secretly, we thirst for reality
for the conceiving, for the birth
we are thirst for sorrows and death
How Heavy The Days
How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everything bare,
Everything cold and merciless,
And even the beloved, clear
Stars look desolately down,
Since I learned in my heart that
Love can die.
Translated by James Wright
Submitted by Holt
Across The Fields
Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost child
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry --
Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.
A Swarm Of Gnats
Many thousand glittering motes
Crowd forward greedily together
In trembling circles.
Extravagantly carousing away
For a whole hour rapidly vanishing,
They rave, delirious, a shrill whir,
Shivering with joy against death.
While kingdoms, sunk into ruin,
Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered
Into night and legend, without leaving a trace,
Have never known so fierce a dancing.
Translated by James Wright
Submitted by Holt
Comments (0)
NoComments
FIND THE WAY TO YOURSELF: A Guide to Hermann Hesse
Hermann Hesse's Life Lessons Men Learn Too Late In Life
Life's meaning is found in nature - Hermann Hesse's Genius Philosophy
Hermann Hesse's Long Summer (1997)
Hermann Hesse: Eigensinn
Hermann Hesse - Der Weg nach Innen
Hermann Hesse's Steppenwolf: An Analysis
10 Tips for How to Read Hermann Hesse's Siddharta
Hermann Hesse: SIDDHARTHA (Audiolibro integrale)
Steppenwolf - Complete Audiobook by Herman Hesse (1927)
HERMANN HESSE - WER LIEBEN KANN, IST GLÜCKLICH
Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse: Life is full of suffering and full of beauty | Yeonmi Park
Siddhartha - FULL AudioBook 🎧📖 - by Hermann Hesse - Buddhist Religion & Spirituality Novel
Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse BOOK REVIEW
Hermann Hesse: Demian. A Novel of Jung and Nietzsche
The Philosophy of Inner Peace (Hermann Hesse)
JOURNEY TO THE EAST: Hermann Hesse's Classic Audiobook
HERMANN HESSE - LE LOUP DES STEPPES
Herman Hesse | Un autor, su obra y su tiempo
The Glass Bead Game by Hermann Hesse | Review
My ranking of Hermann Hesse's novels (What I love! What I barely remember! What bored me!)
Hermann Hesse - Siddhartha (Hörbuch) - Das Buch über den Sinn des Lebens
Hermann Hesse's Long Summer [Part 1 of 4] [Inspirational Documentary]
Herman Hesse: Speaking With Trees
explaining furry philosophy 🐺 (hermann hesse - steppenwolf)
Hermann Hesse - Lebensstationen. Der Weg zu sich selbst
Demian | Hermann Hesse | Full Audiobook
RESEÑA: DEMIAN, de Hermann Hesse | Arcade's Books
AUDIOLIBRO - SIDDHARTHA - HERMANN HESSE
Hermann Hesse: Eigensinn
Hermann Hesse's Quotes That Should Know Before You Get Old
Na luzie o twórczości Hermanna Hessego 📖✍️| BookLoose #4
"Demian" by Hermann Hesse
SIDARTA, DE HERMANN HESSE (#153)
La lunga estate di Hermann Hesse
Hermann Hesse: On Reading Books
Demian (Hermann Hesse) | Você Escolheu #53 | Tatiana Feltrin
Mieux comprendre Népal grâce à Hermann Hesse
Resenha de Vassoler: O lobo da estepe | Hermann Hesse
Letteratura per Rimorchiare: Siddharta - Hermann Hesse
Un libro una hora 225 | El lobo estepario | Hermann Hesse
Hermann Hesse: Der Steppenwolf
HERMANN Hesse el maestro de la ESPIRITUALIDAD | Nobel literatura |
EL LOBO ESTEPARIO - HERMAN HESSE (resumen, reseña y análisis)
Hermann Hesse Zitate. Blicke in die Tiefe deiner Seele.
Ep. #74: Sidarta, de Hermann Hesse
Verbotene Zitate von Hermann Hesse, die Ihr Leben verändern werden
¿Quién es Hermann Hesse?
Sidarta - Hermann Hesse
Hermann Hesse, "Das Leben, das ich selbst gewählt…"