Dedication

from Faust Part I

 

Once more you hover near me, forms and faces

Seen long ago with troubled youthful gaze.

And shall I this time hold you, limn the traces,

Fugitive still, of those enchanted days?

You closer press: then take your powers and places,

Command me, rising from the murk and haze;

Deep stirs my heart, awakened, touched to song,

As from a spell that flashes from your throng.

 

You bear the glass of days that were glad-hearted;

Dear memories, beloved shades arise;

Like an old legendary echo started,

Come friendship and first love before my eyes.

Old sorrow stirs, the wounds again have smarted,

Life's labyrinth before my vision lies,

Disclosing dear ones who, by fortune cheated,

Passed on their way, of love and light defeated.

 

They cannot hear what now I bring, belated,

Who listened to the early tunes I made:

Gone is the throng by love so animated,

Dead the responsive tribute that they paid.

My tragic theme rings out, for strangers fated,

For strange applause that makes me half afraid.

The rest, who held my music sweet and cherished,

Stray through the world dispersed, or they have perished.

 

Now comes upon me long forgotten yearning

For the sweet solemn tryst those spirits keep.

I feel the trembling words of song returning,

Like airs that softly on the harp-strings creep.

The stem heart softens, all its pride unlearning,

A shudder passes through me, and I weep.

All that I have stands off from me afar,

And all I lost is real, my guiding-star.

 

Translated by Philip Wayne