FOOTNOTES:

Becomes Interested in India through Schlegel—Influence of India's Literature on his Poetry—Interest in the Persian Poets—Persian Influence on Heine—His Attitude toward the Oriental Movement.

"Was das Sanskrit-Studium selbst betrifft, so wird über den Nutzen desselben die Zeit entscheiden. Portugiesen, Holländer und Engländer haben lange Zeit jahraus, jahrein auf ihren grossen Schiffen die Schätze Indiens nach Hause geschleppt; wir Deutsche hatten immer das Zusehen. Aber die geistigen Schätze Indiens sollen uns nicht entgehen. Schlegel, Bopp, Humboldt, Frank u. s. w. sind unsere jetzigen Ostindienfahrer; Bonn und München werden gute Faktoreien sein."

With these words Heine sent forth his "Sonettenkranz" to A.W. von Schlegel in 1821.192These sonnets show what a deep impression the personality and lectures of the famous romanticist made on him while he was a student at Bonn, in 1819 and 1820. Schlegel had just then been appointed to the professorship of Literature at the newly created university, and to his lectures Heine owed the interest for India which manifests itself in many of his poems, and which continued even in later years when his relations to his former teacher had undergone a complete change.

He never undertook the study of Sanskrit. His interest in India was purely poetic. "Aber ich stamme aus Hindostan, und daher fühle ich mich so wohl in den breiten Sangeswäldern Valmikis, die Heldenlieder des göttlichen Ramo bewegen mein Herz wie ein bekanntes Weh, aus den Blumenliedern Kalidasas blühen mir hervor die süssesten Erinnerungen" (Ideen, vol. v. p. 115)—these words, with some allowance perhaps for the manner of the satirist, may well be taken tocharacterize the poet's attitude towards India. Instinctively he appropriated to himself the most beautiful characteristics of Sanskrit poetry, its tender love for the objects of nature, for flowers and animals and the similes and metaphors inspired thereby, and he invests them with all the grace and charm peculiar to his muse. Some of his finest verses owe their inspiration to the lotus; and in that famous poem "Die Lotosblume ängstigt,"—so beautifully set to music by Schumann—the favorite flower of India's poets may be said to have found its aesthetic apotheosis. As is well known, there are two kinds of lotuses, the one opening its leaves to the sun (Skt.padma,paṅkaja), the other to the moon (Skt.kumuda,kāirava). Both kinds are mentioned inŚakuntalā(Act. V. Sc. 4, ed. Kale, Bombay, 1898, p. 141):kumudānyēva śaśāṅkaḥ savitā bhōdhayati paṅkajānyēva"the moon wakes only the night lotuses, the sun only the day lotuses."193It is the former kind, the nymphaea esculenta, of which Heine sings, and his conception of the moon as its lover is distinctively Indic and constantly recurring in Sanskrit literature. Thus at the beginning of the first book of theHitōpadēśathe moon is called the lordly bridegroom of the lotuses.194

The splendor of an Indic landscape haunts the imagination of the poet. On the wings of song he will carry his love to the banks of the Ganges (vol. i. p. 98), to that moonlit garden where the lotus-flowers await their sister, where the violets peep at the stars, the roses whisper their perfumed tales into each other's ears and the gazelles listen, while the waves of the sacred river make sweet music. And again in a series of sonnets addressed to Friederike (Neue Ged.vol. ii. p. 65) he invites her to come with him to India, to its palm-trees, its ambra-blossoms and lotus-flowers, to see the gazelles leaping on the banks of the Ganges, and the peacocks displaying their gaudy plumage, to hear Kōkila singing his impassioned lay. He sees Kāma in the features of his beloved, andVāsanta hovering on her lips; her smile moves the Gandharvas in their golden, sunny halls to song.

Allusions to episodes from Sanskrit literature are not infrequent in Heine's writings. The famous struggle between King Viśvāmitra with the sage Vasiṣṭha for example is mockingly referred to in two stanzas (vol. i. p. 146).195His own efforts to win the favor of a certain Emma (Neue Ged.ii. 54) the poet likens to the great act of penance by which King Bhagīratha brought down the Ganges from heaven.196

Heine's prose-writings also furnish abundant proofs of his interest in and acquaintance with Sanskrit literature. In the opening chapters of theBuch Le Grand(c. 4, vol. v. p. 114) he brings before us another vision of tropical Indic splendor. In his sketches from Italy (Reiseb.ii. vol. vi. p. 137) he draws a parallel between the priesthood of Italy and that of India, which is anything but flattering to either. It is also not correct; he notices, to be sure, that in the Sanskrit drama (of which he knows onlyŚakuntalāandMṛcchakaṭikā) the rôle of buffoon is assigned invariably to a Brahman, but he is ignorant of the origin of this singular custom.197In his essay on the Romantic School, when speaking of Goethe's godlike repose, he introduces by way of illustration the well-known episode from the Nala-story where Damayantī distinguishes her lover from the gods who had assumed his form by the blinking of his eyes (vol. ix. p. 52). In the same essay (ibid. pp. 49, 50), he bestows enthusiastic praise on Goethe'sDivan, and this brings us to the question of Persian influence upon Heine.

Starting as he did on his literary career at the time when Goethe'sDivanand Rückert'sÖstliche Rosenhad inaugurated the Hafizian movement in German literature, it would have been strange if he had remained entirely outside of the sphere of its influence. As a matter of fact, he took some interest inPersian poetry almost from the outset of his poetical activity, as his letters clearly show. As early as 1821, he mentions Saʻdī with the epithetherrlich, calls him the Persian Goethe and cites one of his couplets (Gul.ii. 48,qiṭʻah; K.S. p. 122) in the version of Herder.198In April, 1823, he writes from Berlin that during the preceding winter he has studied the non-Semitic part of Asia,199and the following year in a letter to Moser200he speaks of Persian as "die süsse, rosige, leuchtende Bulbulsprache," and goes on to imagine himself a Persian poet in exile among Germans. "O Firdusi! O Ischami! (sic for Jāmī) O Saadi! Wie elend ist euer Bruder! Ach wie sehne ich mich nach den Rosen von Schiras." Such a rose he calls in one of hisNordsee-poems "die Hafisbesungene Nachtigallbraut" ("Im Hafen," vol. i. p. 218).

Yet, judging from the familiar epigrams of Immermann, which Heine cites at the end ofNorderney(Reiseb.i. vol. v. p. 101) as expressive of his own sentiments, he seems to have held but a poor opinion of the West-Eastern poetry that followed in the wake of Goethe'sDivan. He certainly never attempted anything like an imitation of this poetry, and Oriental form appealed to him even less. In the famous, or rather infamous, passage of theReisebilder(vol. vi. pp. 125-149), where he makes his savage attack on Platen, he ridicules that poet'sGhaselenand speaks derisively of their formal technique as "schaukelnde Balancierkünste" (ibid. p. 136). It is probable, however, that he judged theγazalform not so much on its own merits as on the demerits of his adversary. It is certain at any rate that he has nowhere made use of this form of versification.

Persian influence is not noticeable in his earlier poems;201hisBuch der Liedershows no distinctive traces of it. His later poems,Neue Gedichte(1844) andRomanzero(1851), on the other hand, show it unmistakably. The Persian image ofthe rose and the nightingale is of frequent occurrence. In a poem on Spring (Neue Ged.vol. ii. p. 26) we read:

Und mir selbst ist dann, als würd' ichEine Nachtigall und sängeDiesen Rosen meine Liebe,Träumend sing' ich Wunderklänge—.

The image recurs repeatedly in theNeue Gedichte, e.g.Neuer Frühling, Nos. 7, 9, 11, 20, 26;Verschiedene, No. 7, and inRomanzero(vol. iii.), pp. 42, 178, 253. Even in the prose-writings it is found, e.g.Florentinische Nächte(vol. iii. p. 43),Gedanken und Einfälle(vol. xii. 309).

Again, when Heine speaks of pearls that are pierced and strung on a silken thread ("Kluge Sterne,"Neue Ged.vol. ii. p. 106), he is intensely Persian; still more so when he calls Jehuda ben Halevy's verses (Romanz.vol. iii. p. 136):

Perlenthränen, die, verbundenDurch des Reimes goldnen Faden,Aus der Dichtkunst güldnen SchmiedeAls ein Lied hervorgegangen.

The Persian fancy of the moth and candle-flame seems to have been in his mind when he wrote ("Die Libelle," vol. ii. p. 288):

Knisternd verzehren die Flammen der KerzenDie Käfer und ihre liebenden Herzen....

Still another Persian idea, familiar to us from a preceding chapter, is the peacock ashamed of his ugly feet ("Unvolkommenheit,"Romanz.vol. iii. p. 103).

The Persian manner is even employed, and very cleverly, for humorous effect, for instance, in the poem "Jehuda ben Halevy," cited before. In this Heine asks Hitzig for the etymology of the name Schlemihl, but meets with nothing but evasive replies until:

Endlich alle Knöpfe rissenAn der Hose der Geduld,

and the poet begins to swear so profanely that the pious Hitzig surrenders unconditionally and hastens to supply the desired information. This image of the "trousers of patience" reminds us strikingly of such Persian phrases as جيب مراقبه "the cowl of meditation" (Gul.ed. Platts, p. 4), فرش هوس "the carpet of desire" (ib. p. 113), etc., which are a particular ornament of the highly artificial rhymed prose, employed in works like theGulistānandBahāristān. In the latter, for instance, we read of a youth whose mental equilibrium had been impaired by the charms of a handsome girl: لباس دانايی بيفکند و پلاس رسوايی پوشيد "he tore the garment of prudence and put on the rags of disgrace."202

The description of a countess in words like those which Heine puts into the mouth of a Berlin chamber-musician: "Cypressenwuchs, Hyacinthenlocken, der Mund ist Ros' und Nachtigall zu gleicher Zeit," ... (Briefe aus Berlin. No. 3, vol. v. p. 205) furnishes another instance in point.

And lastly, we must mention one of the best known of Heine's poems, the trilogy "Der Dichter Firdusi," the subject of which is the famous legend of Mahmūd's ingratitude to Persia's greatest singer and his tardy repentance. We may add that scholars are not inclined to accept this legend as historical in all its parts; certainly not in its artistic and effective ending. This, of course, has nothing to do with the literary merit of the poem, which is deservedly ranked as one of Heine's happiest efforts.203

After all, however, it is clear that Heine is in no sense an orientalizing poet or a follower of the Hafizian tendency which became the vogue under the influence of Goethe, Rückert and Platen. With him the Oriental element never was more than an incidental feature, strictly subordinated to his own poetic individuality, and never dominating or effacing it, as is the case with most of the professedly "Persian" singers,—those "Perser von dem Main, der Elbe, von der Isar, von der Pleisse"—who thought, as has justly been remarked, that they had penetrated into the Persian spirit by merely mentioninggulsandbulbuls. Heine had no use for such trivial superficiality. The singer of the "Loreley" sang as he felt, and in spite of so many apparently un-German sentimentsin his writings he had a right to say (Die Heimkehr, vol. i. p. 131):

Ich bin ein deutscher Dichter,Bekannt im deutschen Land;Nennt man die besten Namen,So wird auch der meine genannt.

FOOTNOTES:192Printed as Nachwort in the Bemerker, No. 10, Suppl. to Gesellschafter, No. 77. See also H. Heines Leben u. Werke, Ad. Strodtmann, Hamb. 1883, vol. i. p. 78.193Similarly Bhartṛhari, Nītiś. 74.194Atha kadācid avasannāyām rātrāv astācalacūdāvalambini bhagavati kumudinīnāyakē candramasi.... (ed. Bomb. 1891, p. 7). "Once upon a time when the night was spent and the moon, the lordly lover of the lotuses, was reclining on the crest of the western mountain...." Of other allusions to this lotus we may cite Vikramōrvaṡī, Act 3. ed. Parab and Telang, Bomb. 1888, p. 79; Śak. Act iii. ed. Kale, p. 81, and Act iv. ib. p. 96.195The episode occurs in Rāmāy. i. 51-56. It had been translated as early as 1816 by Bopp in his Conjugationssystem der Sanskritsprache.196Mahābh. iii. 108, 109; Rāmāy. i. 42, 43; Mārkaṇḍēya Pur. and other works. Heine's acquaintance was due undoubtedly to Schlegel's translation in Indische Bibliothek, 1820. (Aug. Schlegel, Werke, iii. 20-44.)197See article on this subject by M. Schuyler, Jr., in JAOS. vol. xx. 2. p. 338 seq.198Letter to Friedr. Steinmann, Sämmtl. Werke, Hamb. 1876, vol. xix. No. 7, p. 43.199Ibid. No. 15, p. 80.200Ibid. No. 38, pp. 200, 201.201One poem of his earliest period, Die Lehre (vol. iii. p. 276), published in Hamburgs Wächter, 1817 (Strodtmann, op. cit. i. 54), does seem to show it. In this the young bee, heedless of motherly advice, does not beware of the candle-flame and so "Flamme gab Flammentod." We at once recognize a familiar Persian thought, and are reminded of Goethe's fine line, "Das Lebend'ge will ich preisen das nach Flammentod sich sehnet." (Selige Sehnsucht, ed. Loeper, iv. 26.)202O.M. v. Schlechta-Wssehrd, Der Frühlingsgarten von Mewlana Abdurrahman Dschami, Wien, 1846. Persian text, p. 38.203For a discussion of the legend see Nöldeke in Grdr. iran. Phil. vol. ii. pp. 154, 155, 158.

192Printed as Nachwort in the Bemerker, No. 10, Suppl. to Gesellschafter, No. 77. See also H. Heines Leben u. Werke, Ad. Strodtmann, Hamb. 1883, vol. i. p. 78.

193Similarly Bhartṛhari, Nītiś. 74.

194Atha kadācid avasannāyām rātrāv astācalacūdāvalambini bhagavati kumudinīnāyakē candramasi.... (ed. Bomb. 1891, p. 7). "Once upon a time when the night was spent and the moon, the lordly lover of the lotuses, was reclining on the crest of the western mountain...." Of other allusions to this lotus we may cite Vikramōrvaṡī, Act 3. ed. Parab and Telang, Bomb. 1888, p. 79; Śak. Act iii. ed. Kale, p. 81, and Act iv. ib. p. 96.

195The episode occurs in Rāmāy. i. 51-56. It had been translated as early as 1816 by Bopp in his Conjugationssystem der Sanskritsprache.

196Mahābh. iii. 108, 109; Rāmāy. i. 42, 43; Mārkaṇḍēya Pur. and other works. Heine's acquaintance was due undoubtedly to Schlegel's translation in Indische Bibliothek, 1820. (Aug. Schlegel, Werke, iii. 20-44.)

197See article on this subject by M. Schuyler, Jr., in JAOS. vol. xx. 2. p. 338 seq.

198Letter to Friedr. Steinmann, Sämmtl. Werke, Hamb. 1876, vol. xix. No. 7, p. 43.

199Ibid. No. 15, p. 80.

200Ibid. No. 38, pp. 200, 201.

201One poem of his earliest period, Die Lehre (vol. iii. p. 276), published in Hamburgs Wächter, 1817 (Strodtmann, op. cit. i. 54), does seem to show it. In this the young bee, heedless of motherly advice, does not beware of the candle-flame and so "Flamme gab Flammentod." We at once recognize a familiar Persian thought, and are reminded of Goethe's fine line, "Das Lebend'ge will ich preisen das nach Flammentod sich sehnet." (Selige Sehnsucht, ed. Loeper, iv. 26.)

202O.M. v. Schlechta-Wssehrd, Der Frühlingsgarten von Mewlana Abdurrahman Dschami, Wien, 1846. Persian text, p. 38.

203For a discussion of the legend see Nöldeke in Grdr. iran. Phil. vol. ii. pp. 154, 155, 158.

Lieder des Mirza Schaffy—Are Original Poems—Nachlass—Aus Morgenland und Abendland—Sakuntala, a Narrative Poem.

TheHāfiḍ tendency was carried to the height of popularity by Friedrich Martin Bodenstedt, whoseLieder des Mirza Schaffymet with a phenomenal success, running through one hundred and forty editions in Germany alone during the lifetime of the author, besides being translated into many foreign languages.204These songs have had a remarkable career, which the author himself relates in an essay appended to theNachlass.205

According to the prevailing opinion, Mirza Schaffy was a great Persian poet, a rival of Saʻdī andHāfiḍ, and Bodenstedt was the translator of his songs. Great, therefore, was the astonishment of the European, and particularly the German public, when it was discovered that the name of this famous poet was utterly unknown in the East, even in his own native land. As early as 1860, Professor Brugsch, when in Tiflis, had searched for the singer's grave, but in vain; nobody could tell him where a certain Mirza Schaffy lay buried. At last, in 1870, the Russian counsellor Adolph Bergé gave an authentic account of the real man and his literary activity.206Two things were clearly established: first, that such a person as Mīrzā Šafīʻ had really existed; second, that this person was no poet. On this second point the few scraps of verse which Bergé had been able to collect, and which he submitted in the essay cited above, leave absolutely no doubt. So, in 1874, when Bodenstedt published another poetic collection of Mirza Schaffy, heappended an essay wherein he explained clearly the origin and the nature of the original collection bearing that name.

According to his own statements, these poems are not translations. They are entirely his own,207and were originally not an independent collection, but part of the biographical romanceTausend und ein Tag im Orient.208This should be kept in mind if we wish to estimate them at their true value.

Nevertheless the poems are genuinely Oriental and owe their existence to the author's stay in the East, particularly in Tiflis, during the winter 1843-44. But for this residence in the Orient, so Bodenstedt tells us,209a large part of them would never have seen the light.

In form, however, they are Occidental—theγazalbeing used only a few times (e.g. ii. 135, or in the translations fromHāfiḍ in chap. 21: ii. 70=H. 8; ii. 72=H. 155, etc.) In spirit they are likeHāfiḍ. "Mein Lehrer ist Hafis, mein Bethaus ist die Schenke," so Mirza Schaffy himself proclaims (i. p. 96), and images and ideas fromHāfiḍ, familiar to us from preceding chapters, meet us everywhere. The stature like a cypress, the nightingale and the rose, the verses like pearls on a string, and others could be cited as instances. Other authors are also laid under contribution; thus the comparison of Mirza Schaffy to a bee seems to have been suggested by a maxim of Saʻdī (Gul.viii. No. 77, ed. Platts; K.S. p. 268), where a wise man without practice is called a bee without honey, and the thought in the last verse of "Die Rose auch" (vol. ii. p. 85), that the rose cannot do without dirt and the nightingale feeds on worms, is a reminiscence of a story of Niḍāmī which we had occasion to cite in the chapter on Rückert (see p. 43). In one case a poem contains a Persian proverb. Mirza Schaffy criticises the opinions of the Shāh's viziers in the words: "Ich höre das Geklapper einer Mühle, doch sehe ich kein Mehl" (i, 85), a literal rendering of

آواز آسيا می شنوم وآرد نمی بينم

Of course themullāsand hypocrites in general are roundlyscored, especially in chapter 27, where the sage, angered by the reproaches which themustahīdhas made to him for his bad conduct and irreligious poetry, gives vent to his sentiments of disgust in a number of poems (vol. ii. p. 137 seq.). Bodenstedt undoubtedly had in mind the persecutions to whichHāfiḍ was subject, culminating in the refusal of the priests to give him regular burial and giving rise to the famous story of thefatvā.

The tavern and the praise of wine are, of course, bound to be prominent features. In the samecredowhere Mirza Schaffy proclaimsHāfiḍ as his teacher he also proclaims the tavern as his house of prayer (i. p. 96), and so he celebrates the day when he quit the mosque for the wine-house (i. p. 98; cf.H. 213. 4). The well known poem "Aus dem Feuerquell des Weines" (i. p. 106) is in sentiment exactly like a quatrain of ʻUmar Xayyām (Bodl. ed. Heron-Allen, Boston, 1898, No. 78; Whinfield, 195); the last verse is based on a couplet of Saʻdī (Gul.i. 4, lastqiṭʻah, Platts, p. 18) which is cited immediately after the poem itself (i. p. 107).

A collection of Hafizian songs would scarcely be complete without a song in praise of Shīrāz. This we get in vol. ii. p. 48, where Shīrāz is compared to Tiflis; and just as the former was made famous throughHāfiḍ, so the latter will become famous through Mirza Schaffy. Little did the worthy sage of Ganja dream that this would come literally true. Yet it did. The closing lines of the poem—

Berühmt ist Tiflis durch dein LiedVom Kyros bis zum Rhein geworden—

are no empty boast; they simply express a fact.

None of Bodenstedt's later poetic publications ever attained the success of the Mirza Schaffy songs, and, it may be added, none of them equalled those songs in merit. In 1874 the author resolved once more to try the magic of that name and so he launched forth a collection calledAus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffy's, and to emphasize the Persian character of these poems the Persian translation of the title, از اشرار بازماندهً ميرزا شفيع, appeared on the title-page. In spite of all this, however, the Orientalism in these poems is more artificialthan natural; it is not felt as something essential without which the poems could not exist. The praise of wine, which is the main theme of the second book,—for the collection is divided into seven books,—is certainly not characteristically Persian; European, and especially German poets have also been very liberal and very proficient in bibulous verse. The maxims that make up the third and a portion of the fourth book are for the most part either plainly unoriental, or else so perfectly general, and, we may add, so hopelessly commonplace, as to fit in anywhere. Some, however, are drawn from Persian sources. Thus from theGulistānwe have in the third book, Nos. 8 (Gul.Pref. p. 7, lastqiṭʻah), 9 (ibid. p. 6, first three couplets), 12 (ibid. iii. 27,maθ. p. 89) and 36 (saying of the king inGul.i. 1, p. 13). No. 31 is from the introduction to theHitōpadēśa(third couplet).210"Die Cypresse," p. 103, is suggested byGul.viii. 111 (K.S. 81).

The Oriental stories which form the contents of the fifth book are of small literary value. Some of them read like versified lessons in Eastern religion, as, for instance, "Der Sufi," p. 111, which is a rhymed exposition of aSūfistic principle,211and "Der Wüstenheilige," which enunciates through the lips of Zoroaster himself his doctrine that good actions are worth more than ascetic practices.212On p. 121 Ibn Yamīn is credited with the story of the poet and the glow-worm, which is found in Saʻdī'sBūstān(ed. Platts and Rogers, Lond. 1891, p. 127; tr. Barbier de Meynard, Paris, 1880, p. 163). The famous story of Yūsuf and Zalīχā, as related by Jāmī and Firdausī, is the subject of the longest poem in the book and is told in a somewhat flippant manner, p. 135 seq. The stories told of Saʻdī's reception at court and his subsequent banishment through the calumny of the courtiers, pp. 123-128, seem to be pure invention; at least there is nothing, as far as we know, in the life or writings of the Persian poet that could have furnished the material for these poems.213

In 1882, still another collection of Bodenstedt's poems, entitledAus Morgenland und Abendland, made its appearance. Like theNachlassit also has seven divisions, of which only the second, fourth and sixth are of interest for us as containing Oriental material.214

One poem, however, in the first book, "An eine Kerze," p. 5, should be mentioned as of genuinely Persian character. The candle as symbolical of the patient, self-sacrificing lover is a familiar feature of Persian belles-lettres (cf.H. 299. 4; 301. 5; or Rückert's "Die Kerze und die Flasche," see above, p. 43). The last line reminds us of a verse of Jurjānī, cited by Jāmī in theBahāristān(ed. Schlechta-Wssehrd, p. 111), exhorting the ruler to be like a flame, always pointing upwards.

The second book brings another contribution of sententious wisdom, most of which is neither new nor Oriental. Of Oriental sources theGulistānis best represented. From it are taken Nos. 8 (Gul.ii. 4, last couplet), 9 (ibid. i. 1), 41 (ibid. i. 21, prose-passage before themaθ. p. 33; K.S. p. 55), 43 (ibid. i. 17, coupl. 4, p. 29; K.S. p. 49), 52 (ibid. i. 29, coupl. 2; K.S. p. 66). No. 47, which is credited to Ibn Yamīn, is from theBahāristān(tr. K.S. p. 46;Red.p. 338). No. 49 is a very free rendering of a quatrain of ʻUmar Xayyām (Whinf. 347;Red.p. 81).215

The fourth book offers stories, all of which, except the first two, are from Persian sources. Thus from theGulistānare "Die Berichtigung" (Gul.i. 31; K.S., p. 67) and "Der Königsring" (Gul.iii. 27, last part, p. 92; K.S. p. 157). "Nachtigall und Falk" is from Niḍāmī, as was pointed out before (see above, p. 43). "Das Paradies der Gläubigen" is from Jāmī (Red.p. 324; given there as from theSubẖat ul-abrār) and "Ein Bild der Welt" is from Ibn Yamīn (Red.p. 236).216The longest story of the book is "Dara und Sara," which gives the legend of the discovery of wine by King Jamšīd, told by Mīrχvānd in hisRauḍat us-safā.217Besideschanging the name of the king to Dara, in order to make the poem more romantic, we find that Bodenstedt has made some decided alterations and has considerably amplified the legend. Thus in his version the motive of the lady's attempt at suicide is despised love, while in the original it is only a prosaic nervous headache. In both cases, however, the sequel is the same.

Finally, the sixth book offers very free paraphrases of poems by Rūmī, Saʻdī, Amīr Muʻizzī and Anvarī, who, oddly enough, are termed "Vorläufer des Mirza Schaffy." The source for most of these poems was evidently Hammer'sGeschichte der schönen Redekünste Persiens. To realize with what freedom Bodenstedt has treated his models, it is only necessary to compare some of the poems from Rūmī with Hammer's versions, e.g. "Glaube und Unglaube" (Red.p. 175), "Der Mensch und die Welt" (ibid. p. 180), "Des Lebens Kreislauf" (ibid. p. 178), "Wach' auf" (ibid. p. 181). "Die Pilger," p. 188, attributed to Jāmī, is likewise from Rūmī (Red.p. 181; cf. Rückert,Werke, vol. v. p. 220). The poems from Saʻdī can mostly be traced to theGulistān; they are so freely rendered that they have little in common with the originals except the thought. No. 1 isGul.ii. 18,qiṭʻah1, to which the words of Luqmān are added; no. 2 is fromGul.iii. 10, couplet (p. 76; K.S. p. 129); no. 3 isGul.iii. 27,maθ. (p. 89; K.S., p. 151); no. 4 isGul.iii. 27,qiṭʻah(p. 91; K.S., p. 154) and no. 5 isGul.i. 39,maθ. The poem "Heimat und Fremde" is taken from Amīr Muʻizzī,218the court-poet of Malak Shāh, who in turn took it from Anvarī. It is cited in theHaft Qulzumto illustrate a kind of poetic theft.219"Unterschied" is from Jāmī (Red.p. 315, given as fromSubẖat ul-abrār), "Warum" from Ibn Yamīn (Red.p. 235); "Die Sterne" and "Die Zeit" are both from Anvarī (Red.pp. 98, 99).

So far, Bodenstedt had taken the material for his Oriental poems from Persia, but now he turned to India and in 1887 appearedSakuntala, a romantic epic in five cantos. In the main it follows the story of Kālidāsa's famous drama, but the versionin theMahābharātais also used, and a considerable number of episodes are invented. Even where the account of the drama is followed, changes of a more or less sweeping nature are frequent. We cannot say that they strike us as so many improvements on Kālidāsa; they certainly often destroy or obliterate characteristic Indic features. Thus in the drama the failure of the king to recognize Śakuntalā is the result of a curse pronounced against the girl by the irascible saint Durvāsas, whom she has inadvertently failed to treat with due respect, and the ring is merely a means of breaking the spell. All this is highly characteristic of Hindu thought. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, remembering and forgetting are dependent on a magic quality inherent in the ring itself,—a trait that is at home in almost any literature.220

There are, besides, many minor changes. Thevidūṣaka, or fun-making attendant of the king, is left out, and so the warriors express the sentiments that he utters at the beginning of Act 2. Duṣyanta does not bid farewell to his beloved in person, but leaves a letter. Again, after he has failed to recognize her, she returns to the hermitage of Kanva, whereas in the drama she is transported to that of Kaśyapa on the Hēmakūṭa mountain. So, of course, the aerial ride of the king in Indra's wagon is also done away with.

In many places, on the other hand, the poem follows the drama very closely. For instance, the passage in the first canto describing the mad elephant (pp. 14, 15)221is a paraphrase of the warning uttered by one of the holy men in Act 1. Sc. 4 (ed. Kale, p. 40). The discourse of Śakuntalā with her friends (pp. 37, 38), the incident of the bee and Priyamvadā's playful remark (pp. 38-40) are closely modelled after the fourth scene of Act 1. Many passages of the poem are in fact nothing but translations. Thus the words which the king on leaving, writes to Śakuntalā (p. 78):

Doch mein Herz wird stets zurückbewegt,Wie die wehende Fahne an der Stange,Die man vollem Wind entgegenträgt—

are a pretty close rendering of the final words of the king's soliloquy at the end of Act 1:

gacchati puraḥ śarīraṃ dhāvati paścād asaṃstutaṃ cētaḥ cīnāṃśukamiva kētōḥ prativātam nīyamānasya"my body goes forward; the mind not agreeing with it flies backward like the silken streamer of a banner borne against the wind."

gacchati puraḥ śarīraṃ dhāvati paścād asaṃstutaṃ cētaḥ cīnāṃśukamiva kētōḥ prativātam nīyamānasya

"my body goes forward; the mind not agreeing with it flies backward like the silken streamer of a banner borne against the wind."

A large part of the whole poem is pure invention, designed to make the story more exciting by means of a greater variety of incident. Such invented episodes, for instance, are the gory battle-scenes that take up the first part of the fourth canto, the omen of the fishes in the fifth, and the episodes in which Bharata plays the chief rôle in that canto. Some of the things told of this boy, how he knocks down the gate-keeper who refuses to admit his mother, how he strikes the queen Vasumatī who had insulted her, and how he slays the assassin whom this jealous queen had sent against him, are truly remarkable in view of the fact that the hero of all these exploits cannot be more than six years of age (see pp. 112, 113). The account in theMahābhārata, to be sure, tells of equally fabulous exploits performed by the youth, but there we move in an atmosphere of the marvelous. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, the supernatural has been almost completely banished, and we cannot help noticing the improbability of these deeds.

FOOTNOTES:204Hebrew by Jos. Choczner, Breslau, 1868; Dutch by van Krieken, Amst. 1875; English by E. d'Esterre, Hamb. 1880; Italian by Giuseppe Rossi, 1884; Polish by Dzialoszye, Warsaw, 1888. See list in G. Schenk, Friedr. Bodenstedt, Ein Dichterleben in seinen Briefen, Berl. 1893, pp. 246-248.205Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffys, Berl. 1874, pp. 191-223.206In ZDMG. vol. xxiv. pp. 425-432.207With few exceptions, pointed out by Bodenstedt himself, e.g. "Mullah rein ist der Wein" is from the Tartaric. Nachlass, p. 208.208Friedr. Bodenstedts Gesammelte Schriften, Berlin, 1865, 12 vols. Vols. i and ii. All references to the Lieder des M.S. are to this edition.209Nachlass, p. 193.210Or else a saying of Muhammad exactly like it, cited by Prof. Brugsch in Aus dem Morgenlande, Lpz. Recl. Univ. Bibl. 3151-2, p. 57.211Cf. Bodenstedt's remarks onSūfism in Nachtrag, p. 198 seq.212See my article on Religion of Ancient Persia in Progress, vol. iii. No. 5, p. 290.213A complete history of Saʻdī's life, drawn from his own writings as well as other sources, is given by W. Bacher, Saʻdī's Aphorismen und Sinngedichte, Strassb. 1879. On the relation of the poet to the rulers of his time, see esp. p. xxxv seq.214We cite from the third edition, 1887.215Translated more closely by Bodenstedt in Die Lieder und Sprüche des Omar Chajjâm, Breslau, 1881, p. 29.216Schlechta-Wssehrd, Ibn Jemins Bruchstücke. Wien, 1852, pp. 138, 139.217Tr. David Shea, Hist. of the Early Kings of Persia, Lond. 1832, pp. 102-104; Malcolm. i. p. 10, note b.218Ethé in Grdr. iran. Phil. ii. p. 260; Pizzi, Storia, vol. i. pp. 88, 215.219Rückert, Gram. Poet. u. Rhet. der Perser, p. 363.220Cf. the story of Charlemagne and the magic stone given to him by a grateful serpent. Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, 1. 130.221We cite from an edition publ. at Leipzig, no date.

204Hebrew by Jos. Choczner, Breslau, 1868; Dutch by van Krieken, Amst. 1875; English by E. d'Esterre, Hamb. 1880; Italian by Giuseppe Rossi, 1884; Polish by Dzialoszye, Warsaw, 1888. See list in G. Schenk, Friedr. Bodenstedt, Ein Dichterleben in seinen Briefen, Berl. 1893, pp. 246-248.

205Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffys, Berl. 1874, pp. 191-223.

206In ZDMG. vol. xxiv. pp. 425-432.

207With few exceptions, pointed out by Bodenstedt himself, e.g. "Mullah rein ist der Wein" is from the Tartaric. Nachlass, p. 208.

208Friedr. Bodenstedts Gesammelte Schriften, Berlin, 1865, 12 vols. Vols. i and ii. All references to the Lieder des M.S. are to this edition.

209Nachlass, p. 193.

210Or else a saying of Muhammad exactly like it, cited by Prof. Brugsch in Aus dem Morgenlande, Lpz. Recl. Univ. Bibl. 3151-2, p. 57.

211Cf. Bodenstedt's remarks onSūfism in Nachtrag, p. 198 seq.

212See my article on Religion of Ancient Persia in Progress, vol. iii. No. 5, p. 290.

213A complete history of Saʻdī's life, drawn from his own writings as well as other sources, is given by W. Bacher, Saʻdī's Aphorismen und Sinngedichte, Strassb. 1879. On the relation of the poet to the rulers of his time, see esp. p. xxxv seq.

214We cite from the third edition, 1887.

215Translated more closely by Bodenstedt in Die Lieder und Sprüche des Omar Chajjâm, Breslau, 1881, p. 29.

216Schlechta-Wssehrd, Ibn Jemins Bruchstücke. Wien, 1852, pp. 138, 139.

217Tr. David Shea, Hist. of the Early Kings of Persia, Lond. 1832, pp. 102-104; Malcolm. i. p. 10, note b.

218Ethé in Grdr. iran. Phil. ii. p. 260; Pizzi, Storia, vol. i. pp. 88, 215.

219Rückert, Gram. Poet. u. Rhet. der Perser, p. 363.

220Cf. the story of Charlemagne and the magic stone given to him by a grateful serpent. Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, 1. 130.

221We cite from an edition publ. at Leipzig, no date.

Some Less Known Poets Who Attempted The Oriental Manner.

To enumerate the names of all the German poets who affected the Oriental manner would be to give a list of the illustrious obscure. Most of them have only served to furnish another illustration of Horace's famousmediocribus esse poetis. A bare mention of such names as Löschke, Levitschnigg, Wihl, Stieglitz and von Hermannsthal will suffice.222The last mentioned poet gives a striking illustration of the inanity of most of this kind of work. He uses theγazalform for stories about such persons as the Gracchi and Blücher,223and, what is still more curious, for tirades against the Oriental tendency.224A poet of different calibre is Daumer, whoseHafis(Hamb. 1846) for a long time was regarded as a translation, whereas the poems of the collection are in reality original productions inHāfiḍ's manner, just like Rückert'sÖstliche Rosen.225Their sensuous, passionate eroticism, however, is not a genuineHāfiḍ quality, as we before have seen. The same criticism applies even much more forcibly to Schefer'sHafis in Hellas(Hamburg, 1853).226Special mention is due to the gifted, but unfortunate, Heinrich Leuthold, whoseGhaselendeserve to be placed by the side of Platen's. Like Platen and Rückert, he too proclaims himself a reveller:

Zur Gottheit ward die Schönheit mirUnd mein Gebet wird zum Ghasel.—

But theseGhaselendo not attempt to be so intensely Persian as to reproduce the objectionable features of Persian poetry. Thus Leutholdsings:

Vor allem ein Lebehoch dem Hafis, dem Patriarchen der Zunft!—D'rum bringe die liebliche Schenkin das Gold gefüllter Becher hinein!227

Evidently the poet sees no necessity for retaining thesāqī, but makes the poem more acceptable to Western taste by substituting a "Schenkin" for Platen's "Schenke."

The Oriental story was cultivated by J.F. Castelli. Many of the subjects of hisOrientalische Granaten(Dresden, 1852) had already been used by Rückert. Another Oriental storyteller in verse is Ludwig Bowitsch, whoseSindibad(Leipzig, 1860) contains mostly Arabic material. Friedrich von Sallet has written a poem onZerduscht228which gives the Iranian legend of the attempt made by the sorcerers to burn the newborn child.229It would, however, lead us too far were we to mention single poems on Oriental subjects or of Oriental tendency.

Head and shoulders above all these less known poets towers the figure of Count von Schack, who, like Rückert, combined the poetic gift with the learning of the scholar, and who thus stands out a worthy successor of the German Brahman as a representative of the idea of theWeltlitteratur. A discussion of his work is a fitting close for this investigation.

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