English

1. The Coronation.
Y E verses, O my valiant verses!
Up, up, and be ye armed!
Let all the trumpets flourish,
And raise upon a shield
The youthful Maiden,
Who now enthrals my heart,
Aye, my whole heart as Queen!

All hail, all hail, young Queen!
From the sun above me
Snatch I the shining, ruddy gold,
And weld therefrom a coronet
For thine anointed head.
From the fluttering silk of Heaven's blue canopy
I'll cut a costly fragment,

But all the eunuchs grumbled
When my voice rang out with force;
They grumbled and they mumbled,
My singing was very coarse.

And daintily sounded and cheerly
Their tinkling falsetto notes,
The crystalline fiorituri
Shrilled gay from the bird-like throats.

They sang too in accents pathetic,
Of love — its raptures and fears;
Delights so truly aesthetic

Here, Unter den Linden , my friend,
Your heart will be satisfied;
For here you may find, without end,
Fair women's beauty and pride.

They blossom so dainty and sweet,
In their delicate silks attired,
Like " Flowers on wandering feet, "
Said a poet in words inspired.

Ah, the hat with its sweeping plumes,
Ah, the folds of the Kashmire shawl,
Ah, the youthful cheek and its bloom,

O shame me not, my darling fair —
Unter den Linden , greet me not;
Soon we shall meet at home, and there
All shall be settled and forgot.

I dreamt again the dream of yore;
The sweet May night was glowing,
We sate 'neath the linden-tree once more,
Eternal fidelity vowing.

There was vowing and swearing well-nigh to the morn,
And kisses, and whispers, and laughter;
That I might be mindful of what I had sworn
You bit my hand just after.

O darling, with eyes so bright and clear,
Provoking, enslaving, delighting —

( The Head speaks. )
Oh that the footstool I might be
Whereon my darling's feet are set;
Though she should sore betrample me,
Never would I complain or fret.

( The Heart speaks. )

Oh that the cushion I might be
Wherein her pins my darling sticks!
Though she should stab and prick at me,
I would rejoice in stabs and pricks.

( The Song speaks. )

PROLOGUE .

There once was a knight, who was moody and drear,
Wan and hollow beyond all telling;
He staggered and stumbled, now hither, now here,
Some desolate dream him compelling.
So wooden, so lumpish, so clumsy was he,
That the girls and the flowers they tittered with glee,
When he shambled along past their dwelling.

In the gloomiest corner he sat there remote,

Mere torture-chamber has this world been to me,
Where by the heels the hangman me suspended,
With red-hot pincers all my members rended,
Then into cramping iron fetters threw me.
Wild shrieks of nameless pain resounded through me,
From mouth and eyes the blood was streaming furious —
A lady passing by stopped, cool and curious;
With golden hammer's coup de grâce she slew me,
Then curious looked she on while in contortion

Don't ask about the Six Dynasties at the Sui Palace:
Jewel Maiden and Jade Flower have long since vanished like smoke!
Today, there are only the lakeside willows
which still move like dancers in the spring wind.

CANTO XII

I

The transport of a fierce and monstrous gladness
Spread through the multitudinous streets, fast flying
Upon the winds of fear; from his dull madness
The starveling waked, and died in joy; the dying,
Among the corpses in stark agony lying,
Just heard the happy tidings, and in hope