The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1800.* ----- THE NEW AMADIS.
IN my boyhood's days so drear I was kept confined; There I sat for many a year, All alone I pined, As within the womb. Yet thou drov'st away my gloom, Golden phantasy! I became a hero true, Like the Prince Pipi, And the world roam'd through, Many a crystal palace built, Crush'd them with like art, And the Dragon's life-blood spilt With my glitt'ring dart. Yes! I was a man! Next I formed the knightly plan Princess Fish to free; She was much too complaisant, Kindly welcomed me,-- And I was gallant. Heav'nly bread her kisses proved, Glowing as the wine; Almost unto death I loved. Sun-s appeared to shine In her dazzling charms. Who hath torn her from mine arms? Could no magic band Make her in her flight delay? Say, where now her land? Where, alas, the way? 1775.* ----- WHEN THE FOX DIES, HIS SKIN COUNTS.* (* The name of a game, known in English as "Jack's alight.") WE young people in the shade Sat one sultry day; Cupid came, and "Dies the Fox" With us sought to play. Each one of my friends then sat By his mistress dear; Cupid, blowing out the torch, Said: "The taper's here!" Then we quickly sent around The expiring brand; Each one put it hastily ln his neighbour's hand.
Dorilis then gave it me, With a scoffing jest; Sudden into flame it broke, By my fingers press'd. And it singed my eyes and face, Set my breast on fire; Then above my head the blaze Mounted ever higher. Vain I sought to put it out; Ever burned the flame; Stead of dying, soon the Fox Livelier still became. ONCE a boy a Rosebud spied, Heathrose fair and tender, All array'd in youthful pride,-- Quickly to the spot he hied, Ravished by her splendour. Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Heathrose fair and tender! Said the boy, "I'll now pick thee, Heathrose fair and tender!" Said the rosebud, "I'll prick thee, So that thou'lt remember me, Ne'er will I surrender!" Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Heathrose fair and tender! Now the cruel boy must pick Heathrose fair and tender; Rosebud did her best to prick,-- Vain 'twas 'gainst her fate to kick-- She must needs surrender. Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red, Heathrose fair and tender! OH, my Theresa dear! Thine eyes, I greatly fear, Can through the bandage see! Although thine eyes are bound, By thee I'm quickly found, And wherefore shouldst thou catch but me? Ere long thou held'st me fast, With arms around me cast, Upon thy breast I fell; Scarce was thy bandage gone, When all my joy was flown, Thou coldly didst the blind repel. He groped on ev'ry side, His limbs he sorely tried, While scoffs arose all round; If thou no love wilt give, In sadness I shall live, As if mine eyes remain'd still bound.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.