The Poems of Goethe - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Poems of Goethe Part 52 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
YOUTH.
SAY, sparkling streamlet, whither thou
Art going!
With joyous mien thy waters now
Are flowing.
Why seek the vale so hastily?
Attend for once, and answer me!
MILLSTREAM.
Oh youth, I was a brook indeed;
But lately My bed they've deepen'd, and my speed
Swell'd greatly, That I may haste to yonder mill.
And so I'm full and never still.
YOUTH.
The mill thou seekest in a mood
Contented, And know'st not how my youthful blood
'S tormented.
But doth the miller's daughter fair Gaze often on thee kindly there?
MILLSTREAM.
She opes the shutters soon as light
Is gleaming; And comes to bathe her features bright
And beaming.
So full and snow-white is her breast,-- I feel as hot as steam suppress'd.
YOUTH.
If she in water can inflame
Such ardour, Surely, then, flesh and blood to tame
Is harder.
When once is seen her beauteous face, One ever longs her steps to trace.
MILLSTREAM.
Over the wheel I, roaring, bound,
All-proudly, And ev'ry spoke whirls swiftly round,
And loudly.
Since I have seen the miller's daughter, With greater vigour flows the water.
YOUTH.
Like others, then, can grief, poor brook,
Oppress thee?
"Flow on!"--thus she'll, with smiling look,
Address thee.
With her sweet loving glance, oh say, Can she thy flowing current stay?
MILLSTREAM.
'Tis sad, 'tis sad to have to speed
From yonder; I wind, and slowly through the mead
Would wander; And if the choice remain'd with me, Would hasten back there presently.
YOUTH.
Farewell, thou who with me dost prove
Love's sadness!
Perchance some day thou'lt breathe of love
And gladness.
Go, tell her straight, and often too, The boy's mute hopes and wishes true.
1797.
THE MAID OF THE MILL'S TREACHERY.
[This Ballad is introduced in the Wanderjahre, in a tale called The Foolish Pilgrim.]
WHENCE comes our friend so hastily,
When scarce the Eastern sky is grey?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,
In yonder holy spot to pray?
The brook appears to hem his path,
Would he barefooted o'er it go?