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25 Nov 16 - 01:18 PM (#3822684) Subject: A Highway for Freedom (Mangan trans. Herwegh) From: keberoxu Mudcat's Index threads include "The Spirit of The Nation", which has James Clarence Mangan's "A Highway for Freedom." This is in turn a translation of "Der Freiheit eine Gasse!" by Georg Herwegh. This thread will provide both the English and the original German. Mangan was much taken with Herwegh, and perhaps this thread would be a good place to post translations of other Herwegh poems. This one, for those who don't recognize the above songbook, was printed in "The Nation" in 19th-century Ireland. A HIGHWAY FOR FREEDOM. by Clarence Mangan. Air: "Boyne Water." "My suffering country SHALL be freed, And shine with tenfold glory!" So spake the gallant Winkelried, Renowned in German story. "No tyrant, even of kingly grade, Shall cross or darken my way!" Out flashed his blade, and so he made For Freedom's course a highway! We want a man like this, with power To rouse the world by one word; We want a Chief to meet the hour, And march the masses onward. But Chief or none, through blood and fire, My Fatherland lies thy way! The men must fight who dare desire For Freedom's course a highway! Alas! I can but idly gaze Around in grief and wonder; The People's will alone can raise The People's shout of thunder. Too long, my friends, you faint for fear In secret crypt and bye-way; At last be Men! Stand forth, and clear For Freedom's course a highway! You intersect wood, lea, and lawn, With roads for monster wagons, Wherein you speed like lightning, drawn By fiery iron dragons. So do! Such work is good, no doubt; But why not seek some nigh way For Mind as well? Path also out For Freedom's course a highway! Yes! up! and let your weapons be Sharp steel and self-reliance! Why waste your burning energy In void and vain defiance, And phrases fierce but fugitive? 'Tis deeds, not words, that I weigh -- Your swords and guns alone can give To Freedom's course a highway! pages 321 - 322, The Spirit of The Nation Dublin: James Duffy, 1845 |
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25 Nov 16 - 01:36 PM (#3822687) Subject: Lyr Add: Der Freiheit eine Gasse! Herwegh From: keberoxu From his "Gedichte eines Lebendigen," Georg Herwegh's original. DER FREIHEIT EINE GASSE! Vorm Feinde stand in Reih' und Glied Das Volk um seine Fahnen; Da rief Herr Struthahn Winkelried: "Ich will den Weg Euch bahnen! Dir, Gott, befehl' ich Weib und Kind, Die ich auf Erden lasse -- " Und also sprengt' er pfeilgeschwind Der Freiheit eine Gasse. Das war ein Ritter noch mit Fug, Der wie ein heiß Gewitter Die Knechte vor sich niederschlug -- O wär' ich solch ein Ritter, Auf stolzem Ross von schnellem Huf, In schimmernden Kürasse, Zu sterben mit dem Donnerruf: Der Freiheit eine Gasse! Doch zittert nicht! ich bin allein, Allein mit meinem Grimme; Wie könnt' ich Euch gefährlich sein Mit meiner schwachen Stimme? Dem Herrscher bildet sein Spalier, Wie sonst, des Volkes Masse, Und Niemand, Niemand ruft mit mir: Der Freiheit eine Gasse! Ihr Deutschen ebnet Berg und Thal Für eure Feuerwagen, Man sieht auf Strassen ohne Zahl Euch durch die Länder jagen; Auch dieser Dampf ist Opferdampf -- Glaub nicht, daß ich ihn hasse -- Doch bahnet erst in Streit und Kampf Der Freiheit eine Gasse! Wenn alle Welt den Mut verlor, Die Fehde zu beginnen, Tritt Du, mein Volk, den Völkern vor, Laß Du Dein Herzblut rinnen! Gib uns den Mann, der das Panier Der neue Zeit erfasse, Und durch Europa brechen wir Der Freiheit eine Gasse! pages 64 - 66, Gedichte eines Lebendigen. Mit einer Dedikation an den Verstorbenen. Zürich und Winterthur: Verlag des literarischen Comptoirs, 1841 |
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25 Nov 16 - 02:05 PM (#3822691) Subject: Lyr Add: Fire and Light (Herwegh/Mangan) From: keberoxu Here's another pair. FIRE AND LIGHT [from the German of Herwegh: written during the conflagration at Hamburg, in May, 1842.] "Bewahrt das Feuer und das Licht." -- Old Cry of the German Watchmen. And smoke and flames, aloft and under, And blackened skeleton palace halls, Fain would I lift a voice of thunder, Albeit I know none heeds its calls. No matter; Devastation governs The present and the looming Night; And I must warn till Morn -- ye sovereigns, Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! Must warn as Watchman -- O, ye sovereigns, Beware, take care, of fire and Light! Deep in men's hearts, those darker Hamburgs, The fierce volcanic forges glow; Your states and towns, and seeming calm burgs Nurse that within which passeth show. Beware! the flames that smoulder, hidden, Are truly treacherous in their might, And may ere soon burst forth unbidden, Beware, take care, of fire and Light! May all, too soon, burst forth unbidden, Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! Beware, the Fire, the Light we kindle! If, of the two great rival Powers Now arming, one be doomed to dwindle, 'Tis you and yours, not we and ours! 'Tis Guilt, not Innocence, that winces When men call Heaven to aid the Right -- Again I warn you! O ye Princes, Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! As Watchmen warn you! O ye Princes, Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! From land to land of startled Europe The meteor symbol spreads and speeds -- The morning Dawn, the Flag of sure hope, The Future's Book to him who reads! Still sweeps it forth as first it swept, red And chainless over vale and height -- Beware, the sign, ye thirty sceptered! Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! Beware the bodeful sign, ye sceptered! Beware, take care, of Fire and Light! pages 293 - 294, Poetical Pieces, in Essays in Prose and Verse by James Clarence Mangan edited by C. P. Meehan, C.C. Dublin: James Duffy and Sons, 1884 |
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25 Nov 16 - 02:29 PM (#3822698) Subject: Lyr Add: Bei Hamburgs Brand (Herwegh) From: keberoxu Georg Herwegh, also from Gedichte eines Lebendigen. BEI HAMBURGS BRAND Ein freies Wort in Hamburgs Flammen! Denn in den Flammen seht ihr's gern; Es wird mit Fürst und Volk verdammen Und doch -- ich find' kein Lied, ihr Herrn; Kaum will ein Laut sich in mir regen, Ein Laut für den Philistersegen, Der aus der heißen Asche bricht; Laß mich ein Sprüchlein niederlegen: Bewahrt das Feuer und das Licht! Ihr wißt, ich bin ein schlechter Reimer, Dies liegt trotz eurer Nacht am Tag; Doch ist mein Vers kein Wassereimer, Den man zum Löschen füllen mag; Ich jauchzte, als die Feuerzungen Jüngst so beredt durch's Land geklungen, Ja, Feuer! rief noch mein Gedicht; Ich hab' den Stürmen zugesungen; Bewahrt das Feuer und das Licht! Manch trocken Auge ward gefeuchtet, Manch kalte Seele wurde heiß, Und glühend hat das Eis geleuchtet. Das starre, deutsche Gletchereis; Der Bund der Eintracht ward beschworen, Das Feuer hat uns neu geboren, Des Rheines Wasser konnt' es nicht -- O sei kein Funke drum verloren: Bewahrt das Feuer und das Licht! Laßt sie von Land zu Lande wallen, Die Glut, die uns solch Heil gebar; Laßt alle, alle Tempel fallen, Doch jede Seele werd' Altar. "Mehr Licht!" nur Licht kann uns erretten, Nur Feuer tilgt das Mal der Ketten, Das Feuer halte sein Gericht. Auf Feuer will die Freiheit betten: Bewahrt das Feuer und das Licht! pages 180 - 181, Gedichte eines Lebendigen, as previous |
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25 Nov 16 - 03:14 PM (#3822706) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Highway for Freedom (Herwegh/Mangan) From: keberoxu More Herwegh. Franz Liszt, of all people, scored this poem for unaccompanied men's chorus (the SingVerein beloved of the Germans). A personal favorite, as it is less fiery and more yearning. DER GANG UM MITTERNACHT Ich schreite mit dem Geist der Mitternacht Die weiten stillen Strassen auf und nieder -- Wie hastig ward geweint hier und gelacht Vor einer Stunde noch! -- Nun träumt man wieder. Die Lust ist, einer Blume gleich, verdorrt, Die tollsten Becher hörten auf zu schäumen, Es zog der Kummer mit der Sonne fort, Die Welt ist müde -- laßt sie, laßt sie träumen! Wie all mein Haß und Groll in Scherben bricht, Wenn ausgerungen eines Tages Wetter, Der Mond ergießet sein versöhnend Licht, Und wär's auch über welke Rosenblätter! Leicht wie ein Ton, unhörbar wie ein Stern, Fliegt meine Seele um in diesen Räumen; Wie in sich selbst,versenkte sie sich gern In aller Menschen tiefgeheimstes Träumen! Mein Schatten schlacht mir nach wie ein Spion, Ich stehe still vor eines Kerkers Gitter. O Vaterland, dein zu getreuer Sohn, Er büßte seine Liebe bitter, bitter! Er schläft, -- und fühlt er, was man ihm geraubt? Träumt er vielleicht von seinen Eichenbäumen? Träumt er sich einer Siegerkranz ums Haubt? -- O Gott der Freiheit, laß ihn weiter träumen! Gigantisch thürmt sich vor mir ein Palast, Ich schaue durch die purpurnen Gardinen, Wie man im Schlaf nach einem Schwerte faßt, Mit sündigen, mit angstverwirrten Mienen. Gelb, wie die Krone, ist sein Angesicht, Er läßt zur Flucht sich tausend Rosse zämen, Er stürzt zur Erde, und die Erde bricht -- O Gott der Rache, laß ihn weiter träumen! Das Häuschen dort am Bach -- ein schmaler Raum! Unschuld und Hunger theilen drin das Bette. Doch gab der Herr dem Landmann seinen Traum, Daß ihn der Traum aus wachen Ängsten rette; Mit jedem Korn, das Morpheus Hand entfällt, Sieht er ein Saatenland sich golden säumen, Der enge Hütte weitet sich zur Welt -- O Gott der Armut, laß die Armen träumen! Beim letzten Hause auf der Bank von Stein, Will segenflehend ich noch kurz verweilen; Treu lieb' ich Dich, mein Kind, doch nicht allein, Du wirst mich ewig mit der Freiheit theilen. Dich wiegt in goldner Luft ein Taubenpaar, Ich sehe wilde Rosse nur sich bäumen; Du träumst von Schmetterlingen, ich von Aar -- O Gott der Liebe, laß mein Mädchen träumen! Du Stern, der, wie das Glück, aus Wolken bricht! Du Nacht, mit deinem tiefen stillen Blauen, Laßt der erwachten Welt zu frühe nicht Mich in das gramenstellte Antlitz schauen! Auf Thränen fällt der erste Sonnenstrahl, Die Freiheit muß das Feld dem Tage räumen, Die Tyrannei schleift wieder dann den Stahl -- O Gott der Träume, laß uns Alle träumen! pages 64 - 66, Gedichte eines Lebendigen, as previous |
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25 Nov 16 - 03:53 PM (#3822713) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Highway for Freedom (Herwegh/Mangan) From: keberoxu Attributed to one Lois Saunders, a translation of the preceding. WALK AT MIDNIGHT My spirit passes in the silent night Through each deserted street and quiet lane, Astir an hour ago with laughter light, Or passionate weeping -- now comes rest again. The air is parched and drooping like a flower, The revellers' foaming cup has ceased to gleam. And care has vanished with the sunset hour, The world is weary, -- let it rest and dream. How all my hate and passion die away As the day closes soft with sun or showers And the moon sheds her reconciling ray Although it fall but on fast dying flowers. Light as a breath, unresting as a star, My spirit roams through shade and pallid gleam, And clear and open as its own thoughts are Lie the dim workings of each secret dream. My shadow glides before me like a spy -- I pause before a prison's guarded door: O Fatherland, thy son loved faithfully, And for that faithful love he paid full sore. He sleeps -- nor knows that all his hopes have passed. He dreams perchance of his old forest stream -- He dreams he holds the victor's crown at last. O God of Freedom, leave to him, his dream. Stately before me, under watch and ward, A palace towers -- I pass the curtains' sheen And see one who in sleep still grasps his sword, One with sin marred and terror-stricken mien. Haggard his face and yellow as his crown -- All decked for flight his coursers' trappings gleam -- He tumbles headlong, and the earth breaks down, O God of justice -- leave him to his dream. The little cabin by the lonely stream, -- Hunger and innocence have here their place, Yet the poor peasant has his God-sent dream Which all the long day's misery shall efface, For every seed from Morpheus' hand that falls Shall a fair harvest field before him gleam, The narrow hut shall stretch to palace walls: God of the needy -- let the poor man dream. At the last house, before the bench of stone With words of blessing on my lips I pause; I love thee, dearest, but not thee alone, Thou wilt not grudge my love in freedom's cause. Butterflies hover round thy slumber light, For me the rush of steeds, the battle's stream, Thine is the dove's wing, mine the eagle's flight; O God of Love -- still let my loved one dream. O star! whose light, like joy, through clouds must break, O night! close wrapped in thy dark veil of blue, Let not the sorrowful earth too soon awake, Our sad and toil-worn hearts again to view. The earliest sunbeam shines on falling tears, And Freedom's sword by day unsheathed must gleam; The arm of Tyranny once more uprears. O God of sleep and waking, let us dream. quoted in "Modern Lyric Poetry in Germany," printed in January 1895 issue of Queen's Quarterly, Volume II, Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada (online at books.google.com) |
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25 Nov 16 - 05:40 PM (#3822719) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Highway for Freedom (Herwegh/Mangan) From: Felipa interesting, thanks for the transcriptions |
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26 Nov 16 - 12:59 PM (#3822856) Subject: Lyr Add: Das Lied vom Hasse (Herwegh) From: keberoxu First, the Herwegh original, for this pair. Yes, this is The Song of Hate, for which Herwegh is notorious. As in most of Herwegh's poetry, I first encountered it through the English translation by Mangan, which will follow in a post of its own. One difference between the two poets in this pair, apart from the change from German to English, is in this particular case the rhythm, the meter. Herwegh has a duple meter working, dangerously close to a goose-step, and the effect is stark. But wait till you see what Mangan does.... DAS LIED VOM HASSE Georg Herwegh Wohlauf, wohlauf, über Berg und Fluß Dem Morgenrot entgegen! Dem treuen Weib den letzten Kuß, Und dann zum treuen Degen! Bis unsre Hand in Asche stiebt, Soll si vom Schwert nicht lassen; Wir haben lang genug geliebt, Und wollen endlich hassen! Die Liebe kann uns helfen nicht, Die Liebe nicht erretten; Halt Du, o Haß, Dein jüngst Gericht, Bricht Du, o Haß, die Ketten! Und wo es noch Tyrannen gibt, Die laßt uns keck ersassen; Wir haben lang genug geliebt, Und wollen endlich hassen! Wer noch ein Herz besitzt, dem soll's Im Hasse nur sich rühren; Allüberall ist dürres Holz, Um unsre Glut zu schüren. Die ihr der Freiheit noch verbliebt, Singt durch die deutschen Strassen: "Ihr habet lang genug geliebt, O lernet endlich hassen!" Bekämpfet sie ohn' Unterlaß, Die Tyrannei, auf Erden, Und heiliger wird unser Haß, Als unsre Liebe, werden. Bis unsre Hand in Asche stiebt, Soll sie vom Schwert nicht lassen; Wir haben lang genug geliebt, Und wollen endlich hassen! pages 76 - 78, Gedichte eines Lebendigen, as previous. |
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26 Nov 16 - 01:30 PM (#3822860) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Highway for Freedom (Herwegh/Mangan) From: keberoxu William Makepeace Thackeray himself could not be indifferent before the publications of Georg Herwegh. Before I bring on Mangan's translation, this post will present Thackeray's point of view -- and, believe it or not, Thackeray's English translation of Das Lied vom Hasse. "Herwegh has fancy, wit, and strong words at command. He has a keen eye for cant, too, at times, and shows himself to be a pretty sharp and clear-headed critic of art. But it is absurd to place this young man forward as a master. His poetry is a convulsion, not an effort of strength; he does not sing, but he roars; his dislike amounts to fury; and [...] in many instances his hatred and heroism are quite factitious, and his enthusiasm has a very calculating look with it." THE SONG OF HATE translated by Thackeray Brave soldier, kiss the trusty wife, And draw the trusty blade! Then turn ye to the reddening East, In freedom's cause arrayed; Till death shall part the blade and hand, They may not separate; We've practised loving long enough, And come at length to hate! To right us and to rescue us Hath Love essayed in vain; O Hate! proclaim thy judgment-day And break our bonds in twain. As long as ever tyrants last Our task shall not abate; We've practised loving long enough, And come at length to hate! Henceforth let every heart that beats With hate alone be beating -- Look round! what piles of rotten sticks Will keep the flame a-heating -- As many as are free, and dare, From street to street go say 't; We've practised loving long enough, And come at length to hate! Fight tyranny, while tyranny The trampled earth above is; And holier will our hatred be, Far holier than our love is. Till death shall part the blade and hand, They may not separate; We've practised loving long enough, And come at length to hate! Quoted from Thackeray's review of Herwegh's "Gedichte eines Lebendigen", which review Thackeray contributed to The Foreign Quarterly Review, April, 1843. This review, with its English translations, was uncovered and discussed in The Monthly Review, October, 1904, in an article by Rev. Whitwell Elwin. (You can't make up a name like that one, can you...) All of the above were quoted, cited, and considered in "Thackeray's Ballads," an article by Lewis Melville in The Fortnightly Review. Subsequently reprinted in The Living Age, no. 3312, December 28, 1907, pages 771 - 779. Boston: The Living Age Company, 1907. online at books.google.com |
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26 Nov 16 - 02:02 PM (#3822865) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Highway for Freedom (Herwegh/Mangan) From: keberoxu Now it is Mangan's turn. The meter is no longer a duple goose-step: it is a combination of subdivisions of two and three. Not just the tread of marching feet, but drummers nimble with the sticks. Far from sounding weaker than Herwegh's goose-step "auf deutsch," Mangan's rhythmic flourishes rouse attention, even from listeners who have long experience with dull, numbing march pulsations. Mangan makes you shut up, sit up, and listen. THE SONG OF HATRED translation: James Clarence Mangan Yes! Freedom's war! -- through the deadly strife Make earth one charnel bone-yard! The last kiss now to the child and wife And the first firm grasp of the poniard! Blood soon shall run in rivers above The bright flowers we to-day tread; We have all had more than enough of love, So now for a spell of Hatred! We have all had more than enough of love, So now for a spell of Hatred! How long shall the hideous ogre, Power, Rear column of skulls on column? Oh, Justice! hasten thy judgment-hour, And open thy doomsday volume! No more oiled speech! -- it is time the drove Of despots should hear their fate read -- We have all had quite enough of love -- Be our watchword henceforth Hatred! We have all had quite enough of love -- Be our watchword henceforth Hatred! Cold steel! -- to that it must come at length -- Nor quake to hear it spoken! By the blows alone we strike in our strength Can the chains of the world be broken! Up, then! No more in city or grove Let Slavery and Dismay tread! -- We have all had more than enough of love, Let us now fall back upon Hatred! We have all had more than enough of love, Let us now fall back upon Hatred! My friends! The tremendous time at hand Will show itself truly in earnest! Do you the like! -- and take your stand Where its aspect frowns the sternest! Strive now as Tell and Körner strove! Be your sharp swords early and late red! You have all had more than enough of love -- Test now the talisman, Hatred! You have all had more than enough of love, Test now the talisman, Hatred! pages 335 - 336, John Mitchel's edition of Poems by James Clarence Mangan, London: Simpkin, 1859 |