After a Nocturnal Thunderstorm
Today you hang as misty cover
Around my window, goddess of dark cloud,
Ashen flakes eerily hover
To a roaring brook's angry sound.
O amid your sudden lightning flashes,
When your untamed thunder boomed,
In valleys poisoned and noxious,
Your death-drink, sorceress, was brewed!
At midnight, shuddering, your howling cries
Awoke me with a jolt,
You reached, with blazing eyes,
For a piercing thunderbolt.
Rushed to my empty bed at last,
Fully armored, weapons drawn,
Struck your chain mail against the glass,
And spoke: "Now hear what I am!
I'm the Amazon, eternal and great,
Never dovelike, weak or womanly —
Warrioress full of scorn and manly hate,
The victress and the tigress, equally!
Where I tread, I trample corpses,
In my brain, poison thoughts do flow,
With fierce grim eyes, I hurl torches,
Now kneel, worm—pray! Or melt in my mad glow!
| The Little Witch
As long as I'm still pretty,
It's still worth being pious.
One knows, God loves a woman,
A pretty one to boot.
He will surely forgive
The dutiful monk
That he, like many a monk,
Likes to be with me.
No gray church father!
No, still young and usually blushing,
Often like the graying tomcat
Rife with jealousy and want!
He doesn't love the aged,
I don't love old men:
How whimsical and wise
Is God's design!
The church knows how to live,
It tries the heart and face.
That's the way he sees me and forgives —
Indeed, who does not forgive me!
One lisps with a little whisper,
One curtsies and departs
And with a new little sin
One wipes away the old.
Praise be to God on earth,
Who loves pretty maidens
And gladly forgives himself
Affairs of the heart!
As long as I'm still pretty,
It's still worth being pious:
When I'm an old wobbly woman
May the devil take me!
| Prince Vogelfrei
On a crooked branch I sway
On a knoll high above the sea:
A bird invited me to stay;
I flew to its nest to rest today,
And beat my little wings for me.
The white sea stretches, fast asleep,
It sleeps with me through each pain and hurt.
Forgotten aims and harbors deep,
I forget fear, praise, and punishment steep.
Now I fly after every bird.
Step upon step—this is not existence!
This pace is heavy and unrefined!
The breeze lifts me up without resistance:
I love it, on wings floating to the distance
I leave all birds behind.
Reason?—that is bad business:
Reason and tongue stumble just the same!
Flight teaches me a new art—yes,
I learn a more beautiful business,
Song, joke and the melody-game.
To think in solitude—that is wise.
To sing in solitude—that is foolish!
Hence listen to me: you'll hear my cries
Filling the quiet beneath the skies,
Among the birds, a beautiful wish.
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