The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 04: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. in Twenty Volumes
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 04: Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. in Twenty Volumes
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
He tore himself away and departed. His parents lamented and shed
tears. Roseblossom kept in her chamber and wept bitterly. Hyacinth now
hastened as fast as he could through valleys and wildernesses, across
mountains and streams, toward the mysterious country. Everywhere he
asked men and animals, rocks and trees, for the sacred goddess (Isis).
Some laughed, some were silent, nowhere did he receive an answer. At
first he passed through wild, uninhabited regions, mist and clouds
obstructed his path, it was always storming; later he found unbounded
deserts of glowing hot sand, and as he wandered his mood changed, time
seemed to grow longer, and his inner unrest was calmed. He became more
tranquil and the violent excitement within him was gradually
transformed to a gentle but strong impulse, which took possession of
his whole nature. It seemed as though many years lay behind him. Now,
too, the region again became richer and more varied, the air warm and
blue, the path more level; green bushes attracted him with their
pleasant shade but he did not understand their language, nor did they
seem to speak, and yet they filled his heart with verdant colors, with
quiet and freshness. Mightier and mightier grew within him that sweet
longing, broader and softer the leaves, noisier and happier the birds
and animals, balmier the fruits, darker the heavens, warmer the air
and more fiery his love; faster and faster passed the Time, as though
it knew that it was approaching the goal.
One day he came upon a crystal spring and a bevy of flowers that were
going down to a valley between black columns reaching to the sky. With
familiar words they greeted him kindly. "My dear countrymen," he said,
"pray, where am I to find the sacred abode of Isis? It must be
somewhere in this vicinity, and you are probably better acquainted
here than I." "We, too, are only passing through this region," the
flowers answered; "a family of spirits is traveling and we are making
ready the road and preparing lodgings for them; but we came through a
region lately where we heard her name called. Just walk upward in the
direction from which we are coming and you will be sure to learn
more." The flowers and the spring smiled as they said this, offered
him a drink of fresh water, and went on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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