es sei nicht immer Tag und auch nicht Nacht. - Friedrich Hölderlin

Go down, then, lovely sun, for but little they
Regarded you, nor holly one, knew your worth,
Since without toil you rose, and quiet,
Over a people for ever toiling.

To me, however, kindly you rise and set,
O Glorious light, and brightly my eyes respond,
For godly, silent reverence I
Learned when Diotima soothed my frenzy.

O how I listened, Heaven's own messenger,
To you, my teacher! Love! How to the golden day
These eyes transfused with thanks looked up from
Gazing at you. And at once more living

The brooks began to murmur, more lovingly
The blossoms of dark Earth breathed their scent at me
And through the silver clouds a smiling
Aether bowed down to bestow his blessing.

"To the Parcae"

A single summer grant me, great powers, and
a single autumn for fully ripened song
that, sated with the sweetness of my
playing, my heart may more willingly die.
The soul that, living, did not attain its divine
right cannot repose in the nether world.
But once what I am bent on, what is
holy, my poetry, is accomplished:
Be welcome then, stillness of the shadows’ world!
I shall be satisfied though my lyre will not
accompany me down there. Once I
lived like the gods, and more is not needed.

Wer das Tiefste gedacht, liebt das Lebendigste.