Aus Der Matratzengruft: ‘Mein Tag war heiter’

 

My day was happy, fortunate my night.

My People loved me when I struck the lyre

Of Poetry. Passion was my song, and fire:

There it kindled many a lovely light.

 

My summer’s still ablaze but I’ve already

Dragged to the barn the crop I brought to birth –

And now I have to leave all that the Earth

Made so dear to me and loved so dearly!

 

The instrument sinks from my hand.

The glass breaks in splinters, that to my lips

Overconfidently, I so cheerfully pressed.

 

Oh God! How deeply bitter dying is!

How sweet and intimate the life of Man,

In this sweet, intimate and earthly nest.

 

Translation from this webpage