String Quintet

I have seen the vision, 
The vision of mine own revealing itself, 
Coming out from within me.

Tapfere sind solche, die Taten vollbringen,
an die ihr Mut nicht heranreicht.

Sie besitzen nur die Kraft, den Auftrag zu konzipieren
und den Charakter, ihn nicht abweisen zukönnen.

War ein Gott noch so ungnädig, ihnen Erkenntnis ihrer Lage zu gewähren,
dann sind sie nicht zu beneiden. Und darum werden sie beneidet!

Du sollst dir kein Bild machen!
Denn ein Bild schränkt ein,
begrenzt, fasst,
was unbegrenzt und unvorstellbar bleiben soll.

Ein Bild will Namen haben:
Du kannst ihn nur vom Kleinen nehmen;
Du sollst das Kleine nicht verehren!

Du mußt an den Geist glauben!
Unmittelbar, gefühllos und selbstlos.
Du mußt, Auserwählter, mußt, willst du's bleiben!

The church bells toll a melancholy sound,
Calling the people to some other prayers,
Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,
More hearkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
Surely the mind of man is closely bound
In some black spell; seeing that each one tears
Himself from fireside joys, and Lydian airs,
And converse high of those with glory crown'd.
Still, still they toll, and I should feel a damp,--
A chill as from a tomb, did I not know
That they are dying like an outburnt lamp;
That 'tis their sighing, wailing ere they go
Into oblivion; -- that fresh flowers will grow,
And many glories of immortal stamp.

My Soul preached to me
and taught me to love that which the people abhor,
and befriend him who they revile.

Music is a cry of the soul.
It is a revelation,
a thing to be reverenced...
an initiation into the mysteries
of the human soul.

This is an age of anarchy in art:
there is no authority, no standard,
no sense of proportion.
Anybody can do anything
and call it "art"
in the certain expectation
of making a crowd of idiots
stand and stare at him
in gaping astonishment and admiration.

Great men must be denied
	(-vement is founded on denial—
	denial of harmony, of coherence,
	of intellectual lucidity
	and spiritual content
	—denial of music, in fact)
and great achievements scoffed at
in order that the little ones
become conspicuous.

Genius is not a mushroom growth.
Inspiration does not come
without hard work
any more than a crop of corn.
There is no short cut to glory.

My soul preached to me and said, "Do not be delighted 
because of praise,  ... "

For what is glory but the blaze of fame,
The people's praise, if always
praise unmixed?
And what the people but a herd confused,
A miscellaneous
rabble, who extol
Things vulgar, and, well weighed, scarce worth the praise?
They praise and they admire they know not what,
And know not whom, but as one
leads the other;
And what delight to be by such extolled,
To live upon their
tongues, and be their talk?
Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise—
His lot who dares be singularly good.
The intelligent among them and the wise
Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised.

Consider well your neighbour, what an imbecile he is. 
Then ask yourself whether it be worth while paying any attention 
to what he thinks of you. Life is too short, and death 
the end of all things. Life must be lived, not endured.
...
Therefore the sage will go his way, prepared to find 
himself growing ever more out of sympathy with vulgar 
trends of opinion,  ...  
He scorns to make proselytes among his fellows: 
they are not worth it. He has better things to do. 
While others nurse their griefs, he nurses his joy. 
He endeavours to find himself at no matter what cost, 
and to be true to that self when found — a worthy and
ample occupation for a life-time.

Music is ... a way to enlightenment to the spirit...
Only thus ... can all its beauty enter into the soul,
Giving glimpses of Nirvana...

...

Let us take refuge in Nirvana and leave it at that.

 ... 
And as I wake, sweet music breathe 
Above, about, or underneath, 
Sent by some spirit to mortals good, 
Or th' unseen Genius of the wood. 
 ... 

Whither, again, am I to turn my eyes to sing Thy praise; 
above, below, within, without?
There is no way, no place is there about Thee, 
nor any other thing of things that are.
All are in Thee; all are from Thee, 
O Thou who givest all and takest naught, 
 ... 

...

For Thou art all, and there is nothing else with Thou art not.

The eternal Dream
  is borne on the wings of ageless Light
  that rends the veil of the vague
    and goes across Time
  weaving ceaseless patterns of Being.

The mystery remains dumb,
  the meaning of this pilgrimage,
  the endless adventure of existence —
whose rush along the sky
  flames up into innumerable rings of paths,
till at last knowledge gleams out from the dusk
    in the infinity of human spirit,
  and in the dim lighted dawn
  she speechlessly gazes through the break in the mist
    at the vision of Life and  ...  Love
  emerging from the tumult of profound pain and joy.

Divine Music!
Daughter of the Soul of Love

Vase of bitterness and of
Love

Dream of the human heart, fruit
of sorrow

Flower of joy, fragrance and
bloom of feeling

Tongue of lovers, revealer of
secrets

Mother of the tears of hidden love

Inspirer of poets, composers,
and architects

Unity of thoughts within fragments
of words

Designer of love out of beauty
Wine of the exulting heart in
a world of dreams

Heartener of warriors, and strengthener
of souls
Ocean of mercy and sea of tenderness

O Music
In your depths we deposit our hearts
and souls
Thou hast taught us to see with our
ears
And hear with our hearts.

Love can give no idea of Music
Music can give an idea of Love
Why separate them?
They are the two wings of the soul.

O Thou Love of unsurpassable sweetness, help Thou me to taste sweetness of Thy name.
The more I taste the sweetness of Thy name the greater is my thirst for Thee.
Thou art the Fountain of pure nectar.
He who tastes of it makes himself immortal and wise.
The darkness of ignorance and the madness of deceptive things leave him.
The resplendent light of the bright lamp of self-knowledge burns in his soul with all its brilliance.
Lord, let Thy pure divine light of love and wisdom consume me now and for ever.

Now, all is finished.
Nothing now remains,
only the tears bequeathed to us by Nature,
and the cry from the heart
when no longer can man
endure his pain.
To me, above all,
she gave melody and words
so that I could sing of my deepest sorrow.
Others may be dumb in their sufferings,
But God gave me a gift to tell of mine.

 ... 
 ...  for my resting-place is found, 
The C Major of this life: so, now I will try to sleep.

For ever I am liberated,
This is the last time I am born,
No new existence waits for me.

Those men of serene mind enter into the All, having realized
and being everywhere in union with the omnipresent spirit.

 ... 
One Being was
Exempt from ‘I-’ or ‘Thou-’ ness, and apart
From all duality; Beauty Supreme,
 ...