Читать книгу The Poems of Schiller — Third period - Фридрих Шиллер, Friedrich von Schiller - Страница 4

   Could I from this valley drear,

    Where the mist hangs heavily,

   Soar to some more blissful sphere,

    Ah! how happy should I be!

   Distant hills enchant my sight,

    Ever young and ever fair;

   To those hills I'd take my flight

    Had I wings to scale the air.

   Harmonies mine ear assail,

    Tunes that breathe a heavenly calm;

   And the gently-sighing gale

    Greets me with its fragrant balm.

   Peeping through the shady bowers,

    Golden fruits their charms display.

   And those sweetly-blooming flowers

    Ne'er become cold winter's prey.

   In you endless sunshine bright,

    Oh! what bliss 'twould be to dwell!

   How the breeze on yonder height

    Must the heart with rapture swell!

   Yet the stream that hems my path

    Checks me with its angry frown,

   While its waves, in rising wrath,

    Weigh my weary spirit down.

   See — a bark is drawing near,

    But, alas, the pilot fails!

   Enter boldly — wherefore fear?

    Inspiration fills its sails,

   Faith and courage make thine own, —

    Gods ne'er lend a helping-hand;

   'Tis by magic power alone

    Thou canst reach the magic land!