German poetry for someone who cares

[muckefuck]

When aadroma made his request for important foreign-language literature, just about the first thing to spring into my head was Goethe. Call me old-fashioned. I know that most schoolkids don't even read him any more. But the fact that American schoolchildren can get all the way to college without ever reading a Shakespearean sonnet isn't about to threaten the Bard's godlike standing and I feel the same way about Goethe. I'm not a man to use the word "genius" lightly, but if it fits anyone, it fits Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Back in the day, not only was every educated German familiar with the following poem, many could probably recite it from memory. It's inspired parodies and homages by authors from Kästner to Kempner, so even if it isn't his greatest poem ever, it's clearly one of his more memorable ones. (Yes, it's unabashedly Romantic. He invented Romantic, remember?)

Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Goldorangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht?
Kennst du es wohl? Dahin!
Dahin möcht' ich mit dir,
O mein Geliebter, ziehn.

Kennst du das Haus? Auf Sälen ruht sein Dach,
Es glänzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach,
Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an:
Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan?
Kennst du es wohl? Dahin!
Dahin möcht' ich mit dir,
O mein Beschützer, ziehn.

Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg?
Das Maultier such im Nebel seinen Weg,
In Höhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut;
Es stürzt der Fels und über ihn die Flut.
Kennst du ihn wohl? Dahin!
Dahin geht unser Weg!
O Vater, laß uns ziehn!

I'll post a translation later. (They're easy enough to find if you can't wait.) In the meantime, German learners might want to look at this page, with its helpful glosses for difficult vocabulary. Grammatical questions? You can me to any time questions stand!

And now for Friederike Kempner's unforgettable "homage":

Kennst Du das Land,
Wo die Lianen blüh'n
Und himmelhoch
Sich rankt des Urwalds Grün?
Wo Niagara aus den Felsen bricht,
Und Sonnenglut den freien Scheitel sticht? –

Kennst Du das Land,
Wohin Märtyrer zieh'n,
Und wo sie still
Wie Alpenröslein glüh'n?
Die zweite Heimat ist's, so mancher spricht!
Kennst Du das Land? Ach, leider nicht!

(Sorry, no translation available. I may work one up later if I can.)

Comments

[danbearnyc.livejournal.com]

My first trip to Switzerland I made the pilgrimage to Zermatt, where all good tourists go, and took the ski gondola up the Kleine Matterhorn. I was shocked at the number of healthy people I encountered skiing, even in May, but was enjoying the view nonetheless. Now one of my main treats growing up was border crossing; I absolutely loved the idea of crossing borders between cities, counties, states and Mithras-bless-my-grandparents-and-their-summer-cottage-in-the-1000-islands even international frontiers. Knowing that Italy began, well, just over there from Zermatt I made the mistake of asking an exuberantly healthy looking couple if they knew where the border was. The condenscension shooting forth from behind their mirrored Ray-Bans was enough to melt a glacier. So I hemmed, hawed, said I was a tourist (wasn't it obvious?) and that while I wasn't planning to visit Italy on that trip, I merely wanted to know where it was because...and out popped the first stanza of Lemon Tree (very pretty, but too bitter to eat! ahem).

At least if I were going to be a vulgar American tourist, I was going to be an educated vulgar American tourist.