Ein Gott ist der Mensch, wenn er träumt, ein Bettler, wenn er nachdenkt. - 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.

We are nothing; what we search for is everything.

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!