The Prose Writings of Heinrich HeineHeine, Heinrich
General
The Prose Writings of Heinrich Heine
Heine, Heinrich
Heine, Heinrich, 1797-1856 -- Translations into English
the people has been the great task of our lives; we have toiled for it,
and in its cause endured indescribable misery, at home as in exile--but
the poet's refined and sensitive nature revolts at every near personal
contact with the people, and still more repugnant is the mere thought of
its caresses, from which may Heaven preserve us! A great democrat once
remarked that if a king had taken him by the hand, he would immediately
have thrust it into the fire to purify it. In the same manner I would
say, if the sovereign people vouchsafed to press my hand, I would hasten
to wash it. The poor people is not beautiful, but very ugly; only that
ugliness simply comes from dirt, and will disappear as soon as we open
public baths, in which His Majesty may gratuitously bathe himself.
...It required no great foresight to foretell these terrible events so
long before their occurrence. I could easily prophesy what songs would
one day be whistled and chirped in Germany, for I saw the birds hatching
that in after-days gave tone to the new school of song. I saw Hegel,
with his almost comically serious face, like a setting hen, brooding
over the fatal eggs; and I heard his cackling; to tell the truth, I
seldom understood him, and only through later reflection did I arrive at
an understanding of his works. I believe he did not wish to be
understood.
...One beautiful starlight night, Hegel stood with me at an open window.
I, being a young man of twenty-two, and having just eaten well and drunk
coffee, naturally spoke with enthusiasm of the stars, and called them
abodes of the blest. But the master muttered to himself, "The stars!
Hm! hm! the stars are only a brilliant eruption on the firmament."
"What!" cried I; "then there is no blissful spot above, where virtue is
rewarded after death?" But he, glaring at me with his dim eyes,
remarked, sneering, "So you want a _pourboire_ because you have
supported your sick mother and not poisoned your brother?" At these
words he looked anxiously around, but was reassured when he saw that it
was only Henry Beer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account