Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, RichterCarlyle, Thomas
General
Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, Richter
Carlyle, Thomas
German fiction -- Translations into English
"No," said the son; "I remember well that it was a plant which first
made known to me the misery of the Earth; never, till then, did I
understand the sighs and lamentations one may hear on every side,
throughout the whole of Nature, if one but give ear to them. In plants
and herbs, in trees and flowers, it is the painful writhing of one
universal wound that moves and works; they are the corpse of foregone
glorious worlds of rock, they offer to our eye a horrid universe of
putrefaction. I now see clearly it was this, which the root with its
deep-drawn sigh was saying to me; in its sorrow it forgot itself, and
told me all. It is because of this that all green shrubs are so enraged
at me, and lie in wait for my life; they wish to obliterate that lovely
figure in my heart; and every spring, with their distorted deathlike
looks, they try to win my soul. Truly it is piteous to consider how they
have betrayed and cozened thee, old man; for they have gained complete
possession of thy spirit. Do but question the rocks, and thou wilt be
amazed when thou shalt hear them speak."
The father looked at him a long while, and could answer nothing. They
went home again in silence, and the old man was as frightened as
Elizabeth at Christian's mirth; for it seemed a thing quite foreign; and
as if another being from within were working out of him, awkwardly and
ineffectually, as out of some machine.
The harvest-home was once more to be held; the people went to church,
and Elizabeth, with her little ones, set out to join the service; her
husband also seemed intending to accompany them, but at the threshold of
the church he turned aside; and with an air of deep thought, walked out
of the village. He set himself on the height, and again looked over upon
the smoking cottages; he heard the music of the psalm and organ coming
from the little church; children, in holiday dresses, were dancing and
sporting on the green. "How have I lost my life as in a dream!" said he
to himself: "years have passed away since I went down this hill to the
merry children; they who were then sportful on the green, are now
serious in the church; I also once went into it, but Elizabeth is now no
more a blooming childlike maiden; her youth is gone; I cannot seek for
the glance of her eyes with the longing of those days; I have wilfully
neglected a high eternal happiness, to win one which is finite and
transitory."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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