Читать книгу The Poems of Schiller — First period - Фридрих Шиллер, Friedrich von Schiller - Страница 5

   When o'er the chords thy fingers stray,

   My spirit leaves its mortal clay,

    A statue there I stand;

   Thy spell controls e'en life and death,

   As when the nerves a living breath

    Receive by Love's command! 1

   More gently zephyr sighs along

   To listen to thy magic song;

   The systems formed by heavenly love

   To sing forever as they move,

   Pause in their endless-whirling round

   To catch the rapture-teeming sound;

   'Tis for thy strains they worship thee, —

   Thy look, enchantress, fetters me!

   From yonder chords fast-thronging come

    Soul-breathing notes with rapturous speed,

   As when from out their heavenly home

    The new-born seraphim proceed;

   The strains pour forth their magic might,

   As glittering suns burst through the night,

   When, by Creation's storm awoke,

   From chaos' giant-arm they broke.

    Now sweet, as when the silv'ry wave

    Delights the pebbly beach to lave;

    And now majestic as the sound

    Of rolling thunder gathering round;

   Now pealing more loudly, as when from yon height

   Descends the mad mountain-stream, foaming and bright;

      Now in a song of love

       Dying away,

      As through the aspen grove

       Soft zephyrs play:

   Now heavier and more mournful seems the strain,

   As when across the desert, death-like plain,

   Whence whispers dread and yells despairing rise,

   Cocytus' sluggish, wailing current sighs.

    Maiden fair, oh, answer me!

    Are not spirits leagued with thee?

    Speak they in the realms of bliss

    Other language e'er than this?