Iperione a Bellarmino. Ancora una volta il caro suolo della patria mi dona gioia e dolore. Non avessi mai agito! Ma tu splendi ancora, sole del cielo! Tu verdeggi ancora, sacra terra! Ancora scorrono fragorosi i fiumi verso il mare e alberi ombrosi mormorano ancora nel mezzogiorno.
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The islands are. Thus she once looked after The prophet that was loved by God, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Storm-Bearer loved The simplicity of his disciple. Thus that attentive man observed The countenance of the god directly, There at the mystery of the wine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the banquet, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly foresaw his Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for he always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in his prescience, To soften the raging of the world.
For all is good. Then he died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how joyous He appeared, and how victorious. It penetrated them like fire into hot iron, And the one they love walked beside them Like a shadow. For now The majestic day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, Suffering like a god, but knowing He would come again at the right time.
It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally his work With humans, since now it pleased Him to live on in loving night, And keep his innocent eyes Fixed upon depths of wisdom. Living images flourish deep In the mountains as well, Yet it is fearful how God randomly Scatters the living, and how very far. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The divine spirit was twice Recognized, in unity.
It is the action of the winnower, When he shovels the wheat And casts it up into the clear air And swings it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges finally. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman.
For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their activity Spins itself out and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly procession proceeds higher Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like a staff of song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary.
And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. And if the gods love me, As I now believe,.
Patmos - Poem by Friedrich Holderlin
The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto.
His father, the manager of a church estate, died when he was two years old, and Friedrich and his sister, Heinrike, were brought up by their mother. In , Johann Gok died at the age of In preparation for entrance exams into a monastery, he received additional instruction in Greek , Hebrew , Latin and rhetoric , starting in At Denkendorf, he discovered the poetry of Friedrich Schiller and Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock , and took tentative steps in composing his own verses. He then lived in Homburg from to , meeting Susette in secret once a month and attempting to establish himself as a poet, but his life was plagued by financial worries and he had to accept a small allowance from his mother. From to , he produced three versions—all unfinished—of a tragedy in the Greek manner, The Death of Empedocles , and composed odes in the vein of the Ancient Greeks Alcaeus and Asclepiades of Samos. After a sojourn in Stuttgart at the end of , likely to work on his translations of Pindar , he found further employment as a tutor in Hauptwyl , Switzerland and then at the household of the Hamburg consul in Bordeaux , in