Produced by Jonathan Ingram Charles Bidwell and Distributed ProofreadersRAMPOLLIBYGEORGE MACDONALDCONTENTSPREFACE TO THE TRANSLATIONSTRANSLATIONS  FROM NOVALIS      SCHILLER      GOETHE      UHLAND      HEINE      VON SALISSEEWIS      CLAUDIUS  FROM THE DUTCH OF GENESTET  FROM THE GERMAN_Author to me unkown_  FROM PETRARCH  MILTONS ITALIAN POEMS  LUTHERS SONGBOOKA YEARS DIARY OF AN OLD SOULPREFACE TO THE TRANSLATIONSI think every man who can should help his people to inherit the earth bybringing into his own of the wealth of other tongues In the flowerpotsof translation I offer these few exotics with no little labour taught toexist I hope to breathe in English air Such labour is to me no lessserious than delightful for to do a mans work in the process ofcarrying over more injury than must be is a serious wrongI have endeavoured first of all to give the spirit of the poetryNext I have sought to retain each individual meaning that goes to formthe matter of a poemThird I have aimed at preserving the peculiar mode the aroma of thepoets style so far as I could do it without offence to the translatingEnglishFourth both rhythm and rime being essential elements of every poem inwhich they are used I have sought to respect them rigorouslyFifth spirit matter and form truly represented the more literal thetranslation the more satisfactory will be the resultAfter all translation is but a continuous effort after the impossibleThere is in it a general difficulty whose root has a thousandramifications the whole affair being but an accommodation ofdifficulties and a perfect translation from one language into another isa thing that cannot be effected One is tempted even to say that in thewhole range of speech there is no such thing as a synonymMuch difficulty arises from the comparative paucity in English of doubleor feminine rimes But I can remember only one case in which yielding toimpossibility I have sacrificed the feminine rime where one thing oranother must go the less valuable must be the victomBut sometimes a whole passage has had to suffer that a specially poeticline might retain its characterWith regard to the _Hymns to the Night_ and the _Spiritual Songs_ ofFriedrich von Hardenberg commonly called Novalis it is desirable tomention that they were written when the shadow of the death of hisbetrothed had begun to thin before the approaching dawn of his own newlife He died in 1801 at the age of twentynine His parents belonged tothe sect called Moravians but he had become a Roman CatholicPerhaps some of Luthers Songs might as well have been omitted but theyare all translated that the Songbook might be a whole Some I cannot tellhow many or which are from the Latin His work is rugged and where anoccasional fault in rime occurs I have reproduced itIn the few poems from the Italian I have found the representation of thefeminine rimes so frequent in that language an impossibility    FROM NOVALISHYMNS TO THE NIGHTSPIRITUAL SONGSA PARABLE From THE DISCIPLES AT SAIS    HYMNS TO THE NIGHTIBefore all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him whatliving sentient thing loves not the alljoyous light with its coloursits rays and undulations its gentle omnipresence in the form of thewakening Day The giant world of the unresting constellations inhales itas the innermost soul of life and floats dancing in its azure flood thesparkling evertranquil stone the thoughtful imbibing plant and thewild burning multiform beastworld inhales it but more than all thelordly stranger with the meaning eyes the swaying walk and the sweetlyclosed melodious lips Like a king over earthly nature it rouses everyforce to countless transformations binds and unbinds innumerablealliances hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance Itspresence alone reveals the marvellous splendour of the kingdoms of theworldAside I turn to the holy unspeakable mysterious Night Afar lies theworld sunk in a deep grave waste and lonely is its place In the chordsof the bosom blows a deep sadness I am ready to sink away in drops ofdew and mingle with the ashesThe distances of memory the wishes ofyouth the dreams of childhood the brief joys and vain hopes of a wholelong life arise in gray garments like an evening vapour after thesunset In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents what ifit should never return to its children who wait for it with the faith ofinnocenceWhat springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart and stills thesoft air of sadness Dost thou also take a pleasure in us dusky NightWhat holdest thou under thy mantle that with hidden power affects mysoul Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies Thouupliftest the heavyladen pinions of the soul Darkly and inexpressiblyare we moved joystartled I see a grave countenance that tender andworshipful inclines toward me and amid manifold entangled locksreveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother How poor and childish athing seems to me now the light how joyous and welcome the departure ofthe dayDidst thou not only therefore because the Night turns away fromthee thy servants strew in the gulfs of space those flashing globes toproclaim in seasons of thy absence thy omnipotence and thy returnMore heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes whichthe Night hath opened within us Farther they see than the palest of thosecountless hosts Needing no aid from the light they penetrate the depthsof a loving soul that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable Gloryto the queen of the world to the great prophetess of holier worlds tothe fostermother of blissful love she sends thee to me thou tenderlybeloved the gracious sun of the Night Now am I awake for now am I thineand mine Thou hast made me know the Night and brought her to me to be mylife thou hast made of me a man Consume my body