The Great Mirror of Same-Sex Love - Poetry - 32. Oden an meinen Freund Behrisch

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Odes for my Friend, Behrisch

First.

Transplant this lovely tree,

Gardener, as he yammers to me;

So thrice happier the soil be

To receive a trunk such as he.

Still, his nature has the strength

To withstand the earth's sucking envy,

Along with the air's corrupting rot,

By resistance of remedy.

See how he bursts in spring

With pale green armor-like foliage;

Their orange-oil fragrance repelling well,

Like poison to his predators.

Lady Caterpillar's tooth

Becomes dull on them; useless her tricks,

To tarnish his shiny brilliance

Flashing argentine in the sun.

From his canopy's blooms

The bridesmaid imagines she's dowered

For a sumptuous wreath of wedding;

Intends to pluck the young man's fruits.

But look, autumn comes so soon,

And sooner yet flees Caterpillar,

Complaining to sage Madame Spider

Of his incorruptibility.

Dragging a silken thread

From her yew wood tree home entangled,

The arachnid, insect queen of hosts,

Tries to smirch the innocent tree.

With harmless attempts veiling,

She weaves in bestial artistry –

Draping sticky tangles of her webs

To hoar-frost his glittery leaves.

Then she looks with triumph

As the bridesmaid shudders and departs,

And the young man who was once verdant

Bemoans his youth's passing along.

Transplant this lovely tree, do,

Gardener, he's yammering all through.

So Tree, thank the arborist man too,

For he'll save by uprooting you.

Second.

You leave; I grumble –

Go then! Leave me grumbling.

Openhearted man,

Free yourself from this place.

Stagnant quagmires,

Choking October fog,

Inseparable malaise,

Weaving around this place.

Here is the homeland

Of noxious swarms of bugs,

Dens of murderers

And their plots so fiendish.

On the sea of reeds

Slither voluptuous

Serpents of the flames,

Fondled in open light.

But also leave gentle strolls at night,

Where in the moon's twilight waning

Harmless toads gather expectantly

At crossroads for their meetings unseen.

Do no harm to them

For they will be frightened –

Openhearted man,

Free yourself from this place.

Third.

Be callous!

A heart unmoved lightly

Is fitting tribute

To the uncaring ways of the Earth.

But Behrisch, your shining features

Need not be lit by the smile of spring,

Nor darkened by tempestuous

Frowns from wintertime.

Therefore do not lean upon

The anxiety-ridden breast of the girls,

Or within the moody arms of your brother

Who might bring you nothing but grief.

Already congregated

Upon their self-appointed heights,

You are tracked as prey

By a jealous, lynx-like gaze,

Then with claws outstretched,

They hurl themselves upon you,

Insidiously digging in to drag you

By the shoulders.

Preternaturally strong are those lank limbs

Most like the gripping paws of a panther,

Meant to shake you away.

But he's ripping you apart.

Death is parting;

A threefold death

Is parting without hope

Of reunion.

I know you’d gladly leave

This detested country,

If not for my friendship’s bond

In chains of blossoming links.

Tear them apart! And I'll take no action,

For no worthy mate

Keeps his fellow back a prisoner

When he can still escape.

The releasing concept

Of a companion's freedom

Sets too the captor free

Even from within his dungeon.

You leave, I stay.

Yet still rotates this great wheel

Around our calendar spokes,

Upon its smoking axis.

I'll count the turning markers

With their thundering peals,

Knowing the last one will bless

To spring the bars, and let me be free as you.

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,[i]

1767