5 мин
Слушать

Symphonic Studies After Schumann

Prelude Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July Hung heavy, brooding over land and sea:

Our hearts, a-tremble, throbbed in harmony With the wild, restless tone of air and sky.

Shall we not call im Prospero who held In his enchanted hands the fateful key Of that tempestuous hour's mystery,

And with controlling wand our spirits spelled,

With him to wander by a sun-bright shore,

To hear fine, fairy voices, and to fly With disembodied Ariel once more Above earth's wrack and ruin?

Far and nigh The laughter of the thunder echoed loud,

And harmless lightnings leapt from cloud to cloud.

Floating upon a swelling wave of sound,

We seemed to overlook an endless sea:

Poised 'twixt clear heavens and glittering surf were we.

We drank the air in flight: we knew no bound To the audacious ventures of desire.

Nigh us the sun was dropping, drowned in gold;

Deep, deep below the burning billows rolled;

And all the sea sang like a smitten lyre.

Oh, the wild voices of those chanting waves!

The human faces glimpsed beneath the tide!

Familiar eyes gazed from profound sea-caves,

And we, exalted, were as we had died.

We knew the sea was Life, the harmonious cry The blended discords of humanity.

Look deeper yet: mark 'midst the wave-blurred mass,

In lines distinct, in colors clear defined,

The typic groups and figures of mankind.

Behold within the cool and liquid glass Bright child-folk sporting with smooth yellow shells,

Astride of dolphins, leaping up to kiss Fair mother-faces.

From the vast abyss How joyously their thought-free laughter wells!

Some slumber in grim caverns unafraid,

Lulled by the overwhelming water's sound,

And some make mouths at dragons, undismayed.

Oh dauntless innocence!

The gulfs profound Reëcho strangely with their ringing glee,

And with wise mermaids' plaintive melody.

What do the sea-nymphs in that coral cave?

With wondering eyes their supple forms they bend O'er something rarely beautiful.

They lend Their lithe white arms, and through the golden wave They lift it tenderly.

Oh blinding sight!

A naked, radiant goddess, tranced in sleep,

Full-limbed, voluptuous, 'neath the mantling sweep Of auburn locks that kiss her ankles white!

Upward they bear her, chanting low and sweet:

The clinging waters part before their way,

Jewels of flame are dancing 'neath their feet.

Up in the sunshine, on soft foam, they lay Their precious burden, and return forlorn.

Oh, bliss! oh, anguish!

Mortals,

Love is born!

Hark! from unfathomable deeps a dirge Swells sobbing through the melancholy air:

Where love has entered,

Death is also there.

The wail outrings the chafed, tumultuous surge;

Ocean and earth, the illimitable skies,

Prolong one note, a mourning for the dead,

The cry of souls not to be comforted.

What piercing music!

Funeral visions rise,

And send the hot tears raining down our cheek.

We see the silent grave upon the hill With its lone lilac-bush.

O heart, be still!

She will not rise, she will not stir nor speak.

Surely, the unreturning dead are blest.

Ring on, sweet dirge, and knell us to our rest!

Upon the silver beach the undines dance With interlinking arms and flying hair;

Like polished marble gleam their limbs left bare;

Upon their virgin rites pale moonbeams glance.

Softer the music! for their foam-bright feet Print not the moist floor where they trip their round:

Affrighted they will scatter at a sound,

Leap in their cool sea-chambers, nibly fleet,

And we shall doubt that we have ever seen,

While our sane eyes behold stray wreaths of mist,

Shot with faint colors by the moon-rays kissed,

Floating snow-soft, snow-white, where these had been.

Already, look! the wave-washed sands are bare,

And mocking laughter ripples through the air.

Divided 'twixt the dream-world and the real,

We heard the waxing passion of the song Soar as to scale the heavens on pinions strong.

Amidst the long-reverberant thunder-peal,

Against the rain-blurred square of light, the head Of the pale poet at the lyric keys Stood boldly cut, absorbed in reveries,

While over it keen-bladed lightnings played. "Rage on, wild storm!" the music seemed to sing: "Not all the thunders of thy wrath can move The soul that's dedicate to worshipping Eternal Beauty, everlasting Love." No more! the song was ended, and behold,

A rainbow trembling on a sky of gold!

Forth in the sunlit, rain-bathed air we stepped,

Sweet with the dripping grass and flowering vine,

And saw through irised clouds the pale sun shine.

Back o'er the hills the rain-mist slowly crept Like a transparent curtain's silvery sheen;

And fronting us the painted bow was arched,

Whereunder the majestic cloud-shapes marched:

In the wet, yellow light the dazzling green Of lawn and bush and tree seemed stained with blue.

Our hearts o'erflowed with peace.

With smiles we spake Of partings in the past, of courage new,

Of high achievement, of the dreams that make A wonder and a glory of our days,

And all life's music but a hymn of praise.

0
0
26
Подарок

Emma Lazarus

Emma Lazarus (July 22, 1849 – November 19, 1887) was an American author of poetry, prose, and translations, as well as an activist for Jewish ca…

Другие работы автора

Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий

Сегодня читают

Мольба моя к тебе
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.