No change, no pause, no hope! Yet I endure.
I ask the earth, have not the mountains felt?
I ask yon heaven, the all-beholding sun,
Has it not seen? The sea, in storm or calm,
Heaven's ever-changing shadow, spread below,
Have its deaf waves not heard my agony?
Ah me! alas, pain, pain ever, for ever!
The crawling glaciers pierce me with the spears
Of their moon-freezing crystals; the bright chains
Eat with their burning cold into my bones.
Heaven's winged hound, polluting from thy lips
His beak in poison not his own, tears up
My heart; and shapeless sights come wandering by,
The ghastly people of the realm of dream,
Mocking me: and the earthquake fiends are charged
To wrench the rivets from my quivering wounds.
Pictorum Certamen ambigvum.
Nennt den Urbiner den ersten der Maler; allein Leonardo Ist zu vollendet, um blos irgend der zweite zu seyn.
Οὐκ ἀμπνοή τις, οὐ μεταλλαγὴ πόνων,
οὐκ ἐλπίς· ἀλλ ̓ ἔθ' οὑμὸς ἀντέχει βίος
καὶ μὴν πέδον γῆς τῆσδ ̓ ὅμως μαρτύρομαι
οἵων ὄρειοι πρῶνες ᾔσθηνται κακῶν·
καὶ τὸν πανόπτην τόνδε δέρκεσθαι καλῶ
ἐν οὐρανῷ φλέγοντος ἡλίου κύκλον,
καὶ πόντον εὕδοντ ̓ ἢ ζάλῃ κινούμενον
ἀείρρυτον μόρφωμα τῶν ἄνω τόπων
ἔνερθ ̓ ἀναπτυχθέντα· μῶν ἐμὰς δύας
καὶ κῶφ ̓ ὅμως τὰ κύματ ̓ οὐκ ἀκήκοεν ;
ἃ · ἔα ἔα.
αἰεὶ μαραίνει μ' ἄλγος οὐκ ἀνασχετόν.
λόγχαις ἀτούτοις ὥς, ἐφέρπουσαι λάθρα,
κρυσταλλοπηγές μ' αἵδε κεντοῦσιν ῥοαί·
δεσμοὶ δὲ παχνωθέντες ὡς πυρὸς γνάθῳ
δάπτουσ' ἐς ἧπαρ σάρκας ἐκθοινώμενοι·
Ζεῦ, σὸς δ ̓ ἀμύσσει καρδίαν πτηνὸς κύων
ἴῳ μιαίνων χεῖλος αἱματοσταγὲς
τῶν σῶν ῥέοντι κοὐκ ἀπ ̓ οἰκείων γνάθων.
ὄψεις δ ̓ ἄμορφοι πολυπλανεῖς φοιτῶσ ̓ ἀεί,
τὰ σμέρδν ̓ ὀνείρων δυσπρόσοπτα φάσματα,
ἐπεγγελῶσαι· τοῖς δ ̓ ἔνερθε δαίμοσιν,
οἳ γῆν σαλεύουσ', ἑλκέων φονορρύτων
πέδας ἀποσπᾶν διατόρους ἐντέλλεται.
Tragoedorum Certamen ambigvum.
2στε θεόν, σέβομέν σε μέγ ̓ ἔξοχον, "Αγγλε, τραγῳδῶν· πῶς δὲ καλῶ σ ̓ ἄλλου δεύτερον, ὦ Σόφοκλες ;
2. Will sich Hektor ewig von mir wenden,
Wo Achill mit den unnahbar'n Händen
Dem Patroklus schrecklich Opfer bringt?
Wer wird künftig deinen Kleinen lehren.
Speere werfen und die Götter ehren,
Wenn der finstre Orkus dich verschlingt?
H. Theures Weib, gebiete deinen Thränen;
Nach der Feldschlacht ist mein feurig Sehnen,
Diese Arme schützen Pergamus.
Kämpfend für den heil'gen Herd der Götter
Fall' ich, und des Vaterlandes Retter
Steig' ich nieder zu dem styg'schen Fluß.
A. Nimmer lausch' ich deiner Waffen Schalle,
Müßig liegt dein Eisen in der Halle,
Priam's großer Heldenstamm verdirbt.
Du wirst hingeh'n, wo kein Tag mehr scheinet,
Der Cocytus durch die Wüsten weinet,
Deine Liebe in dem Lethe stirbt.
H. All mein Sehnen will ich, all mein Denken,
In des Lethe stillen Strom versenken,
Aber meine Liebe nicht.
Horch! der Wilde tobt schon an den Mauern,
Gürte mir das Schwert um, laß das Trauern!
Hektors Liebe stirbt im Lethe nicht.
A. Ergo non rediturus ibit Hector
Qva diris operans sacris Achilles
Patrocli satiat cruore manes?
Heu qvis tum pueros tuos docebit
Hastam coniicere et deos vereri,
Qvom te nigra palus vorarit Orci?
H. Qvin fletum cohibes, amata conjux ?
Ardor me rapit acer ad duellum:
Nostri Pergama sustinent lacerti.
Propugnans veterum sacella divum
Obcumbo, et patriae salutis auctor
Demittor Stygio beatus amni.
A. Nunqvam nota crepant mihi arma: in aula
Pendet lancea deses; inclutamqve
Sternit Priamidum ruina gentem.
Ibis qvo neqve lux adit diei,
Cocytusqve ululans meat, tuumqve
Lethaei latices tegunt amorem.
H. Qvidqvid mens agitat, cupit, laborat,
Hoc Lethaea premet qvies; amorem
Lethe nulla meum vorare pollet.
Audin', moenibus instat illa Erinys:
Ferro hoc cinge latus. Qvid usqve ploras?
Lethaeis amat Hector in tenebris.
I saw thee weep-the big bright tear
Came o'er that eye of blue;
And then methought it did appear
A violet dropping dew:
I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze
Beside thee ceased to shine;
It could not match the living rays
That fill'd that glance of thine.
As clouds from yonder sun receive
A deep and mellow die,
Which scarce the shade of coming eve
Can banish from the sky;
Those smiles into the moodiest mind
Their own pure joy impart; Their sunshine leaves a glow behind
That lightens o'er the heart.
An arrow from a bow just shot,
Flew upward to heaven's canopy,
And cried, with pompous self-conceit,
To the king eagle, scornfully,
Look here! I can as high as thou,
And, towards the sun, even higher sail!
The eagle smiled, and said, O fool,
What do thy borrowed plumes avail?
By others' strength thou dost ascend,
But by thyself dost downward tend.
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