THE FOOL'S DILEMMA.

Ah, what I wrote on board and wallWith foolish heart, in foolish scrawl,I meant but for their decoration!Yet say you, "Fools' abomination!Both board and wall require purgation,And let no trace our eyes appal!"Well, I will help you, as I can,For sponge and broom are my vocation,As critic and as waterman.But when the finished work I scan,I'm glad to see each learned owlWith "wisdom" board and wall defoul.

Ah, what I wrote on board and wallWith foolish heart, in foolish scrawl,I meant but for their decoration!

Ah, what I wrote on board and wall

With foolish heart, in foolish scrawl,

I meant but for their decoration!

Yet say you, "Fools' abomination!Both board and wall require purgation,And let no trace our eyes appal!"

Yet say you, "Fools' abomination!

Both board and wall require purgation,

And let no trace our eyes appal!"

Well, I will help you, as I can,For sponge and broom are my vocation,As critic and as waterman.

Well, I will help you, as I can,

For sponge and broom are my vocation,

As critic and as waterman.

But when the finished work I scan,I'm glad to see each learned owlWith "wisdom" board and wall defoul.

But when the finished work I scan,

I'm glad to see each learned owl

With "wisdom" board and wall defoul.

From thy moist lips,O Time, thou witch, beslavering me,Hour upon hour too slowly dripsIn vain—I cry, in frenzy's fit,"A curse upon that yawning pit,A curse upon Eternity!"The world's of brass,A fiery bullock, deaf to wail:Pain's dagger pierces my cuirass,Wingéd, and writes upon my bone:"Bowels and heart the world hath none,Why scourge her sins with anger's flail?"Pour poppies now,Pour venom, Fever, on my brain!Too long you test my hand and brow:What ask you? "What—reward is paid?"A malediction on you, jade,And your disdain!No, I retract,'Tis cold—I hear the rain importune—Fever, I'll soften, show my tact:Here's gold—a coin—see it gleam!Shall I with blessings on you beam,Call you "good fortune"?The door opes wide,And raindrops on my bed are scattered,The light's blown out—woes multiplied!He that hath not an hundred rhymes,I'll wager, in these dolorous timesWe'd see him shattered!

From thy moist lips,O Time, thou witch, beslavering me,Hour upon hour too slowly dripsIn vain—I cry, in frenzy's fit,"A curse upon that yawning pit,A curse upon Eternity!"

From thy moist lips,

O Time, thou witch, beslavering me,

Hour upon hour too slowly drips

In vain—I cry, in frenzy's fit,

"A curse upon that yawning pit,

A curse upon Eternity!"

The world's of brass,A fiery bullock, deaf to wail:Pain's dagger pierces my cuirass,Wingéd, and writes upon my bone:"Bowels and heart the world hath none,Why scourge her sins with anger's flail?"

The world's of brass,

A fiery bullock, deaf to wail:

Pain's dagger pierces my cuirass,

Wingéd, and writes upon my bone:

"Bowels and heart the world hath none,

Why scourge her sins with anger's flail?"

Pour poppies now,Pour venom, Fever, on my brain!Too long you test my hand and brow:What ask you? "What—reward is paid?"A malediction on you, jade,And your disdain!

Pour poppies now,

Pour venom, Fever, on my brain!

Too long you test my hand and brow:

What ask you? "What—reward is paid?"

A malediction on you, jade,

And your disdain!

No, I retract,'Tis cold—I hear the rain importune—Fever, I'll soften, show my tact:Here's gold—a coin—see it gleam!Shall I with blessings on you beam,Call you "good fortune"?

No, I retract,

'Tis cold—I hear the rain importune—

Fever, I'll soften, show my tact:

Here's gold—a coin—see it gleam!

Shall I with blessings on you beam,

Call you "good fortune"?

The door opes wide,And raindrops on my bed are scattered,The light's blown out—woes multiplied!He that hath not an hundred rhymes,I'll wager, in these dolorous timesWe'd see him shattered!

The door opes wide,

And raindrops on my bed are scattered,

The light's blown out—woes multiplied!

He that hath not an hundred rhymes,

I'll wager, in these dolorous times

We'd see him shattered!

Once more, St Mark, thy pigeons meet my gaze,The Square lies still, in slumbering morning mood:In soft, cool air I fashion idle lays,Speeding them skyward like a pigeon's brood:And then recall my minionsTo tie fresh rhymes upon their willing pinions.My bliss! My bliss!Calm heavenly roof of azure silkiness,Guarding with shimmering haze yon house divine!Thee, house, I love, fear—envy, I'll confess,And gladly would suck out that soul of thine!"Should I give back the prize?"Ask not, great pasture-ground for human eyes!My bliss! My bliss!Stern belfry, rising as with lion's leapSheer from the soil in easy victory,That fill'st the Square with peal resounding, deep,Wert thou in French that Square's "accent aigu"?Were I for ages setIn earth like thee, I know what silk-meshed net....My bliss! My bliss!Hence, music! First let darker shadows come,And grow, and merge into brown, mellow night!'Tis early for your pealing, ere the domeSparkle in roseate glory, gold-bedightWhile yet 'tis day, there's timeFor strolling, lonely muttering, forging rhyme—My bliss! My bliss!

Once more, St Mark, thy pigeons meet my gaze,

The Square lies still, in slumbering morning mood:

In soft, cool air I fashion idle lays,

Speeding them skyward like a pigeon's brood:

And then recall my minions

To tie fresh rhymes upon their willing pinions.

My bliss! My bliss!

Calm heavenly roof of azure silkiness,Guarding with shimmering haze yon house divine!Thee, house, I love, fear—envy, I'll confess,And gladly would suck out that soul of thine!"Should I give back the prize?"Ask not, great pasture-ground for human eyes!My bliss! My bliss!

Calm heavenly roof of azure silkiness,

Guarding with shimmering haze yon house divine!

Thee, house, I love, fear—envy, I'll confess,

And gladly would suck out that soul of thine!

"Should I give back the prize?"

Ask not, great pasture-ground for human eyes!

My bliss! My bliss!

Stern belfry, rising as with lion's leapSheer from the soil in easy victory,That fill'st the Square with peal resounding, deep,Wert thou in French that Square's "accent aigu"?Were I for ages setIn earth like thee, I know what silk-meshed net....My bliss! My bliss!

Stern belfry, rising as with lion's leap

Sheer from the soil in easy victory,

That fill'st the Square with peal resounding, deep,

Wert thou in French that Square's "accent aigu"?

Were I for ages set

In earth like thee, I know what silk-meshed net....

My bliss! My bliss!

Hence, music! First let darker shadows come,And grow, and merge into brown, mellow night!'Tis early for your pealing, ere the domeSparkle in roseate glory, gold-bedightWhile yet 'tis day, there's timeFor strolling, lonely muttering, forging rhyme—My bliss! My bliss!

Hence, music! First let darker shadows come,

And grow, and merge into brown, mellow night!

'Tis early for your pealing, ere the dome

Sparkle in roseate glory, gold-bedight

While yet 'tis day, there's time

For strolling, lonely muttering, forging rhyme—

My bliss! My bliss!

Thither I'll travel, that's my notion,I'll trust myself, my grip,Where opens wide and blue the oceanI'll ply my Genoa ship.New things on new the world unfolds me,Time, space with noonday die:Alone thy monstrous eye beholds me,Awful Infinity!

Thither I'll travel, that's my notion,I'll trust myself, my grip,Where opens wide and blue the oceanI'll ply my Genoa ship.

Thither I'll travel, that's my notion,

I'll trust myself, my grip,

Where opens wide and blue the ocean

I'll ply my Genoa ship.

New things on new the world unfolds me,Time, space with noonday die:Alone thy monstrous eye beholds me,Awful Infinity!

New things on new the world unfolds me,

Time, space with noonday die:

Alone thy monstrous eye beholds me,

Awful Infinity!

SILS-MARIA.

Here sat I waiting, waiting, but for naught!Beyond all good and evil—now by light wroughtTo joy, now by dark shadows—all was leisure,All lake, all noon, all time sans aim, sans measure.Then one, dear friend, was swiftly changed to twain,And Zarathustra left my teeming brain....

Here sat I waiting, waiting, but for naught!Beyond all good and evil—now by light wrought

Here sat I waiting, waiting, but for naught!

Beyond all good and evil—now by light wrought

To joy, now by dark shadows—all was leisure,All lake, all noon, all time sans aim, sans measure.

To joy, now by dark shadows—all was leisure,

All lake, all noon, all time sans aim, sans measure.

Then one, dear friend, was swiftly changed to twain,And Zarathustra left my teeming brain....

Then one, dear friend, was swiftly changed to twain,

And Zarathustra left my teeming brain....

Wildly rushing, clouds outleaping,Care-destroying, Heaven sweeping,Mistral wind, thou art my friend!Surely 'twas one womb did bear us,Surely 'twas one fate did pair us,Fellows for a common end.From the crags I gaily greet you,Running fast I come to meet you,Dancing while you pipe and sing.How you bound across the ocean,Unimpeded, free in motion,Swifter than with boat or wing!Through my dreams your whistle sounded,Down the rocky stairs I boundedTo the golden ocean wall;Saw you hasten, swift and glorious,Like a river, strong, victorious,Tumbling in a waterfall.Saw you rushing over Heaven,With your steeds so wildly driven,Saw the car in which you flew;Saw the lash that wheeled and quivered,While the hand that held it shivered,Urging on the steeds anew.Saw you from your chariot swinging,So that swifter downward springingLike an arrow you might goStraight into the deep abysses,As a sunbeam falls and kissesRoses in the morning glow.Dance, oh! dance on all the edges,Wave-crests, cliffs and mountain ledges,Ever finding dances new!Let our knowledge be our gladness,Let our art be sport and madness,All that's joyful shall be true!Let us snatch from every bower,As we pass, the fairest flower,With some leaves to make a crown;Then, like minstrels gaily dancing,Saint and witch together prancing,Let us foot it up and down.Those who come must move as quicklyAs the wind—we'll have no sickly,Crippled, withered, in our crew;Off with hypocrites and preachers,Proper folk and prosy teachers,Sweep them from our heaven blue.Sweep away all sad grimaces,Whirl the dust into the facesOf the dismal sick and cold!Hunt them from our breezy places,Not for them the wind that braces,But for men of visage bold.Off with those who spoil earth's gladness,Blow away all clouds of sadness,Till our heaven clear we see;Let me hold thy hand, best fellow,Till my joy like tempest bellow!Freest thou of spirits free!When thou partest, take a tokenOf the joy thou hast awoken,Take our wreath and fling it far;Toss it up and catch it never,Whirl it on before thee ever,Till it reach the farthest star.

Wildly rushing, clouds outleaping,Care-destroying, Heaven sweeping,Mistral wind, thou art my friend!Surely 'twas one womb did bear us,Surely 'twas one fate did pair us,Fellows for a common end.

Wildly rushing, clouds outleaping,

Care-destroying, Heaven sweeping,

Mistral wind, thou art my friend!

Surely 'twas one womb did bear us,

Surely 'twas one fate did pair us,

Fellows for a common end.

From the crags I gaily greet you,Running fast I come to meet you,Dancing while you pipe and sing.How you bound across the ocean,Unimpeded, free in motion,Swifter than with boat or wing!

From the crags I gaily greet you,

Running fast I come to meet you,

Dancing while you pipe and sing.

How you bound across the ocean,

Unimpeded, free in motion,

Swifter than with boat or wing!

Through my dreams your whistle sounded,Down the rocky stairs I boundedTo the golden ocean wall;Saw you hasten, swift and glorious,Like a river, strong, victorious,Tumbling in a waterfall.

Through my dreams your whistle sounded,

Down the rocky stairs I bounded

To the golden ocean wall;

Saw you hasten, swift and glorious,

Like a river, strong, victorious,

Tumbling in a waterfall.

Saw you rushing over Heaven,With your steeds so wildly driven,Saw the car in which you flew;Saw the lash that wheeled and quivered,While the hand that held it shivered,Urging on the steeds anew.

Saw you rushing over Heaven,

With your steeds so wildly driven,

Saw the car in which you flew;

Saw the lash that wheeled and quivered,

While the hand that held it shivered,

Urging on the steeds anew.

Saw you from your chariot swinging,So that swifter downward springingLike an arrow you might goStraight into the deep abysses,As a sunbeam falls and kissesRoses in the morning glow.

Saw you from your chariot swinging,

So that swifter downward springing

Like an arrow you might go

Straight into the deep abysses,

As a sunbeam falls and kisses

Roses in the morning glow.

Dance, oh! dance on all the edges,Wave-crests, cliffs and mountain ledges,Ever finding dances new!Let our knowledge be our gladness,Let our art be sport and madness,All that's joyful shall be true!

Dance, oh! dance on all the edges,

Wave-crests, cliffs and mountain ledges,

Ever finding dances new!

Let our knowledge be our gladness,

Let our art be sport and madness,

All that's joyful shall be true!

Let us snatch from every bower,As we pass, the fairest flower,With some leaves to make a crown;Then, like minstrels gaily dancing,Saint and witch together prancing,Let us foot it up and down.

Let us snatch from every bower,

As we pass, the fairest flower,

With some leaves to make a crown;

Then, like minstrels gaily dancing,

Saint and witch together prancing,

Let us foot it up and down.

Those who come must move as quicklyAs the wind—we'll have no sickly,Crippled, withered, in our crew;Off with hypocrites and preachers,Proper folk and prosy teachers,Sweep them from our heaven blue.

Those who come must move as quickly

As the wind—we'll have no sickly,

Crippled, withered, in our crew;

Off with hypocrites and preachers,

Proper folk and prosy teachers,

Sweep them from our heaven blue.

Sweep away all sad grimaces,Whirl the dust into the facesOf the dismal sick and cold!Hunt them from our breezy places,Not for them the wind that braces,But for men of visage bold.

Sweep away all sad grimaces,

Whirl the dust into the faces

Of the dismal sick and cold!

Hunt them from our breezy places,

Not for them the wind that braces,

But for men of visage bold.

Off with those who spoil earth's gladness,Blow away all clouds of sadness,Till our heaven clear we see;Let me hold thy hand, best fellow,Till my joy like tempest bellow!Freest thou of spirits free!

Off with those who spoil earth's gladness,

Blow away all clouds of sadness,

Till our heaven clear we see;

Let me hold thy hand, best fellow,

Till my joy like tempest bellow!

Freest thou of spirits free!

When thou partest, take a tokenOf the joy thou hast awoken,Take our wreath and fling it far;Toss it up and catch it never,Whirl it on before thee ever,Till it reach the farthest star.

When thou partest, take a token

Of the joy thou hast awoken,

Take our wreath and fling it far;

Toss it up and catch it never,

Whirl it on before thee ever,

Till it reach the farthest star.

FOOTNOTES:1. This means literally to put the numeral X instead of the numeral V (formerly U); hence it means to double a number unfairly, to exaggerate, humbug, cheat.—Tr.2. An allusion to Schiller's poem: "The Veiled Image of Sais."—Tr.3. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.4. A and O, suggestive of Ah! and Oh! refer of course to Alpha and Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet.—Tr.5. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.6. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.7. Allusions to the song of Clara in Goethe's "Egmont."—TR.8. Schiller's poem, "The Veiled Image of Sais," is again referred to here.—Tr.9. This means that true love does not look for reciprocity.—Tr.10. The distinction between ethos and pathos in Aristotle is, broadly, that between internal character and external circumstance.—P. V. C.11. In German the expressionKopf zu waschen, besides the literal sense, also means "to give a person a sound drubbing."—Tr.12. "Germany, Germany, above all": the first line of the German national song.—Tr.13. An allusion to the German Proverb, "Handwerk hat einen goldenen Boden."—Tr.14. Title of the well-known poem of Uhland.—Tr.15. This poem is a parody of the "Chorus Mysticus" which concludes the second part of Goethe's "Faust." Bayard Taylor's translation of the passage in "Faust" runs as follows:—"All things transitoryBut as symbols are sent,Earth's insufficiencyHere grows to Event:The IndescribableHere it is done:The Woman-Soul leadeth usUpward and on!"16. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of theNation, in which it appeared on April 17, 1909.17. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of theNation, in which it appeared on May 15, 1909.

FOOTNOTES:

1. This means literally to put the numeral X instead of the numeral V (formerly U); hence it means to double a number unfairly, to exaggerate, humbug, cheat.—Tr.

2. An allusion to Schiller's poem: "The Veiled Image of Sais."—Tr.

3. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.

4. A and O, suggestive of Ah! and Oh! refer of course to Alpha and Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet.—Tr.

5. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.

6. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre.

7. Allusions to the song of Clara in Goethe's "Egmont."—TR.

8. Schiller's poem, "The Veiled Image of Sais," is again referred to here.—Tr.

9. This means that true love does not look for reciprocity.—Tr.

10. The distinction between ethos and pathos in Aristotle is, broadly, that between internal character and external circumstance.—P. V. C.

11. In German the expressionKopf zu waschen, besides the literal sense, also means "to give a person a sound drubbing."—Tr.

12. "Germany, Germany, above all": the first line of the German national song.—Tr.

13. An allusion to the German Proverb, "Handwerk hat einen goldenen Boden."—Tr.

14. Title of the well-known poem of Uhland.—Tr.

15. This poem is a parody of the "Chorus Mysticus" which concludes the second part of Goethe's "Faust." Bayard Taylor's translation of the passage in "Faust" runs as follows:—"All things transitoryBut as symbols are sent,Earth's insufficiencyHere grows to Event:The IndescribableHere it is done:The Woman-Soul leadeth usUpward and on!"

15. This poem is a parody of the "Chorus Mysticus" which concludes the second part of Goethe's "Faust." Bayard Taylor's translation of the passage in "Faust" runs as follows:—

"All things transitoryBut as symbols are sent,Earth's insufficiencyHere grows to Event:The IndescribableHere it is done:The Woman-Soul leadeth usUpward and on!"

"All things transitory

But as symbols are sent,

Earth's insufficiency

Here grows to Event:

The Indescribable

Here it is done:

The Woman-Soul leadeth us

Upward and on!"

16. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of theNation, in which it appeared on April 17, 1909.

17. Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of theNation, in which it appeared on May 15, 1909.

Back to Index Next