Hymns To The Night (I)

What mortal being

gifted with senses

does not love

above all marvels

in broadening space that rounds him

joyous, frolicking light

with its beams and waves

its colours,

and gentle immanence

by day?

As life’s innermost soul

there breathes

the gigantic world of constellations

that knows no rest

swimming within the blue ocean flood

there breathes

the twinkling stone

quiet plants

and animals

wild, burning

of many figures.

And above all things

the glorious stranger

with eyes full of meaning

a swaying gait

and tender, closed lips, rich

in tones.

As a King

of earthly nature

it calls forth every power

into countless metamorphoses

binding and loosening

endless alliances

suspending his heavenly image

round each earthly being.

His presence alone

reveals the marvelous splendour

of earthly realms.

Downward I turn

to the sacred, ineffable

enigmatic night—

Far down there, lies the world

as sunk within a hollow.

How bleak and lonesome her place.

Throbbing pangs in the strings of my breast.

I want to sink down into a drop of dew

mingle with ashes

and distant memory

youthful wishes

and childhood dreams

the whole of lengthy life’s

brief joys and hopes come to naught, arriving

in grey cloths

as mists of evening

when the sun is down.

In other expanses

light strikes the gay pavilions.

Will it never return

to its true-hearted children?

To the gardens

of its splendid house?

Still, what is it that wells forth

beneath our hearts,

cool and invigorating

swallowing pain’s soft airs

full of intimation?

Do you too

have a human heart

dark night?

What do you have there

beneath your cloak

that, unseen and mighty,

stirs my soul?

A precious balm

trickles through your hand,

from a cluster of poppies.

In sweet intoxication

you unfurl the heavy wings of the heart

granting us joys

darkish ineffable,

home-like as you yourself are,

joys that let us sense

a heaven.

How childish and poor

the light seems to me

with its bright things.

How exuberant and blessed

this going of day.

And thus it is

purely because

the night makes its attendants turn away

that you may sow the glowing orbs

among roomy expanses of space

proclaim your omnipotence

your return

in the time

when you are still away.

More of heaven

than the flashing stars in those expanses

seem the endless eyes

that the night

opens up within us.

They see farther

than the palest

of the numberless host.

Needing no light

they see through the depths

of a loving heart

brimming a higher realm

with ineffable passion.

Praise be the Queen of the World,

The Great Proclaimer

of the Sacred World,

Protectress of Blesséd Love

who has sent you to me, gentle beloved,

dear Sun of Night.

I awoke then

for I am yours and mine.

You have proclaimed

the night alive to me,

and made me human.

Consume with spirit-ardour my body

that I may mingle with your subtle winds

and ever keep the Bridal Night.

Translation Copyright © Gordon Walmsley
The translation is based on both the handwritten version and the version as printed in Athenäum.