Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 226

Dost thou not know us, and this sacred grove,

And this blest light, which shines not on the dead?

Dost thou not feel thy sister and thy friend,

Who hold thee living in their firm embrace?

Us firmly grasp; we are not empty shades.

Mark well my words! Collect thy scatter'd thoughts!

Attend! Each moment is of priceless worth,

And our return hangs on a slender thread,

Which, as it seems, some gracious fate doth spin.

ORESTES (to IPHIGENIA)

My sister, let me for the first time taste,

With open hearts pure joy within thine arms!

Ye gods, who charge the heavy clouds with dread,

And sternly gracious send the long-sought rain

With thunder and the rush of mighty winds,

A horrid deluge on the trembling earth;

Yet dissipate at length man's dread suspense,

Exchanging timid wonder's anxious gaze

For grateful looks and joyous songs of praise,

When in each sparkling drop which gems the leaves,

Apollo, thousand-fold, reflects his beam,

And Iris colors with a magic hand

The dusty texture of the parting clouds;

Oh, let me also in my sister's arms,

And on the bosom of my friend, enjoy

With grateful thanks the bliss ye now bestow;

My heart assures me that your curses cease.

The dread Eumenides at length retire,

The brazen gates of Tartarus I hear

Behind them closing with a thunderous clang.

A quick'ning odor from the earth ascends,

Inviting me to chase, upon its plains,

The joys of life and deeds of high emprize.