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Translation Trashbin - 32. Das Geheimnis
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Translation of
Das Geheimnis
von Friedrich von Schiller
Das Geheimnis
Sie konnte mir kein Wörtchen sagen,
Zu viele Lauscher waren wach,
Den Blick nur durft ich schüchtern fragen,
Und wohl verstand ich, was er sprach.
Leis komm′ ich her in deine Stille,
Du schön belaubtes Buchenzelt,
Verbirg in deiner grünen Hülle
Die Liebenden dem Aug′ der Welt.
Von ferne mit verworrnem Sausen
Arbeitet der geschäft′ge Tag,
Und durch der Stimmen hohles Brausen
Erkenn′ ich schwerer Hämmer Schlag.
So sauer ringt die kargen Lose
Der Mensch dem harten Himmel ab,
Doch Ieicht erworben, aus dem Schoße
Der Götter fällt das Glück herab.
Daß ja die Menschen nie es hören,
Wie treue Lieb′ uns still beglückt!
Sie können nur die Freude stören,
Weil Freude nie sie selbst entzückt.
Die Welt wird nie das Glück erlauben,
Als Beute wird es nur gehascht,
Entwenden mußt du′s oder rauben,
Eh dich die Mißgunst überrascht.
Leis auf den Zähen kommt′s geschlichen,
Die Stille liebt es und die Nacht,
Mit schnellen Füßen ist′s entwichen,
Wo des Verräters Auge wacht.
O schlinge dich, du sanfte Quelle,
Ein breiter Strom um uns herum,
Und drohend mit empörter Welle
Verteidige dies Heiligtum. [1]
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The Secret
by Friedrich von Schiller
Although you couldn’t say a word to me,
Because eavesdroppers were present,
The shy returned look on my face you’d see
Would inform I knew what was meant.
Here your shades of silence find me to tell
Soaring amid your canopy
Will keep us safe in a beautiful shell,
Verdant, but from prying eyes, free.
This sweeps the twisted whispers of gossips,
Mischief-working thoughts workaday,
And the din of their hollow noise that strips
Like hammer blows, the godless prey.
For the lot of man through the heavens sour
The sky against his forward way,
But into my lap falls his very hour
Faltering gods to joy, they say.
And yet, the rabblelous won’t hear of it,
How our true love makes us happy!
They’d only disrupt what they can’t permit,
Never letting contentment be.
It’s a thing to be victimized and hashed
While the world hates stability;
Where one must con or wind up being thrashed
By their surprised, grudgeful decree.
But come on soft toes that can sneak away,
For silence loves it with the night,
And beneath the hypocrites’ dumb survey
Our stealth’s ready for sudden flight.
O slip thou, where calm gradients play
Protection like a moat divine
Around us to threaten anyone of they
Who'd storm the tower of our love's shrine.
[1] Upon receiving Goethe’s love poem Nähe des Geliebten (“Presence of the Belovèd”) for him, Schiller wrote and sent this heartfelt token in return.
https://www.zgedichte.de/gedichte/friedrich-schiller/das-geheimnis.html
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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