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by Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772 - 1801), as Novalis
Translation © by Emily Ezust
Muß immer der Morgen wiederkommen?
Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: ENG
Muß immer der Morgen wiederkommen? Endet nie des Irdischen Gewalt? Unselige Geschäftigkeit verzehrt den himmlischen Anflug der Nacht. Wird nie der Liebe geheimes Opfer ewig brennen? Zugemessen ward dem Lichte seine Zeit; aber zeitlos und raumlos ist der Nacht Herrschaft. -- Ewig ist die Dauer des Schlafs. Heiliger Schlaf -- beglücke zu selten nicht der Nacht Geweihte in diesem irdischen Tagewerk. Nur die Toren verkennen dich und wissen von keinem Schlafe, als dem Schatten, den du in jener Dämmerung der wahrhaften Nacht mitleidig auf uns wirfst. Sie fühlen dich nicht in der goldenen Flut der Trauben -- in des Mandelbaums Wunderöl, und dem braunen Safte des Mohnes. Sie wissen nicht, daß du es bist der des zarten Mädchens Busen umschwebt und zum Himmel den Schooss macht -- ahnden nicht, daß aus alten Geschichten du himmelöffnend entgegentrittst und den Schlüssel trägst zu den Wohnungen der Seligen, unendlicher Geheimnisse schweigender Bote.
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View text with all available footnotesText Authorship:
- by Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772 - 1801), as Novalis, no title, appears in Hymnen an die Nacht, no. 2 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 151
Must morning always come again?
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
Must morning always come again? Will the might of the mundane never end? Will accursed bustle consume the heavenly approach of night? Will love's secret sacrifice never burn eternally? Light had their time measured out - but timeless and limitless is the night's dominion; eternal is the duration of that Sleep. Sacred sleep! Do not cheer too seldom those dedicated to night in this earthly day's task. Only fools will mistake you, and know of no sleep but the shadow that in that twilight of veritable night you mercifully cast over us. They do not feel you in the golden flood of grapes, in the almond trees' wondrous oil, and in the brown nectar of poppies. They know not that it is you hovering about the bosom of the tender maiden, making her lap Heaven; they do not suspect that from old stories you will emerge, opening up the heavens, bearing the key to the abode of the blessed; infinite secrets of a silent messenger.
View text with all available footnotes
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Emily Ezust, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf.
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772 - 1801), as Novalis, no title, appears in Hymnen an die Nacht, no. 2
Go to the general view
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 165