Wir sind nichts; was wir suchen ist alles. (We are nothing; what we search for is everything.) - Friedrich Hölderlin

We are nothing; what we search for is everything.

Thus the sons of earth now drink in
The fire of heaven without danger.
And it is our duty, poets, to stand
Bare-headed under the storms of God,
Grasping with our own hand
The Father's beam itself,
And to offer the gift of heaven,
Wrapped in song, to the people.

From “As On a Holiday” (“Wie Wenn am Feiertage”)

For too long has everything divine been utilized,
And all the heavenly powers, the kindly ones, thrown away,
Consumed for kicks by thankless,
Cunning men, who, when the exalted

One works in their fields, think they
Know the daylight and the Thunderer,
And their telescope might see them all and
Count and name all the stars in heaven;

But the Father covers our eyes with holy
Night so we might remain.
He loves no wildness! Our expanding
power will never force heaven.

When brother fled from brother, when lovers passed
Each other by in ignorance, when fathers failed
To recognize their sons, when human words no more Were understood, nor human laws, that was when
The meaning of it all assailed me and I trembled:
It was my nation’s parting god!