A Tramp Abroad - The Original Classic Edition. Twain Mark

Чтение книги онлайн.

       117

       and with extended arms he called out the name of the enigmatical Being, who seemed to stoop lovingly to him and beckon to him in a friendly manner; indeed, if his ear did not deceive him, she called his name with unutterable sweet Whispers, proper to love. Beside himself with delight the youth lost his Senses and sank senseless to the earth."

       After that he was a changed person. He went dreaming about, thinking only of his fairy and caring for naught else in the world. "The old

       count saw with affliction this changement in his son," whose cause he

       could not divine, and tried to divert his mind into cheerful channels,

       but to no purpose. Then the old count used authority. He commanded the youth to betake himself to the camp. Obedience was promised. Garnham says:

       "It was on the evening before his departure, as he wished still once to visit the Lei and offer to the Nymph of the Rhine his Sighs, the

       tones of his Zither, and his Songs. He went, in his boat, this time accompanied by a faithful squire, down the stream. The moon shed her silvery light over the whole country; the steep bank mountains appeared in the most fantastical shapes, and the high oaks on either side bowed their Branches on Hermann's passing. As soon as he approached the

       Lei, and was aware of the surf-waves, his attendant was seized with an inexpressible Anxiety and he begged permission to land; but the Knight

       swept the strings of his Guitar and sang:

       "Once I saw thee in dark night, In supernatural Beauty bright;

       Of Light-rays, was the Figure wove,

       To share its light, locked-hair strove.

       118

       "Thy Garment color wave-dove By thy hand the sign of love, Thy eyes sweet enchantment, Raying to me, oh! enchantment.

       "O, wert thou but my sweetheart, How willingly thy love to part! With delight I should be bound

       To thy rocky house in deep ground."

       That Hermann should have gone to that place at all, was not wise; that he should have gone with such a song as that in his mouth was a most serious mistake. The Lorelei did not "call his name in unutterable

       sweet Whispers" this time. No, that song naturally worked an instant and thorough "changement" in her; and not only that, but it stirred the

       bowels of the whole afflicted region around about there--for--

       "Scarcely had these tones sounded, everywhere there began tumult and sound, as if voices above and below the water. On the Lei rose flames, the Fairy stood above, at that time, and beckoned with her right hand clearly and urgently to the infatuated Knight, while with a staff in

       her left hand she called the waves to her service. They began to mount heavenward; the boat was upset, mocking every exertion; the waves rose to the gunwale, and splitting on the hard stones, the Boat broke into Pieces. The youth sank into the depths, but the squire was thrown on shore by a powerful wave."

       119

       The bitterest things have been said about the Lorelei during many centuries, but surely her conduct upon this occasion entitles her to our respect. One feels drawn tenderly toward her and is moved to forget her many crimes and remember only the good deed that crowned and closed her career.

       "The Fairy was never more seen; but her enchanting tones have often been heard. In the beautiful, refreshing, still nights of spring, when the

       moon pours her silver light over the Country, the listening shipper

       hears from the rushing of the waves, the echoing Clang of a wonderfully charming voice, which sings a song from the crystal castle, and with sorrow and fear he thinks on the young Count Hermann, seduced by the Nymph."

       Here is the music, and the German words by Heinrich Heine. This song has been a favorite in Germany for forty years, and will remain a favorite

       always, maybe. [Figure 5]

       I have a prejudice against people who print things in a foreign language and add no translation. When I am the reader, and the author considers me able to do the translating myself, he pays me quite a nice

       compliment--but if he would do the translating for me I would try to get along without the compliment.

       If I were at home, no doubt I could get a translation of this poem, but

       I am abroad and can't; therefore I will make a translation myself. It may not be a good one, for poetry is out of my line, but it will serve

       120

       my purpose--which is, to give the unGerman young girl a jingle of words to hang the tune on until she can get hold of a good version, made by some one who is a poet and knows how to convey a poetical thought from one language to another.

       THE LORELEI

       I cannot divine what it meaneth,

       This haunting nameless pain:

       A tale of the bygone ages

       Keeps brooding through my brain:

       The faint air cools in the glooming,

       And peaceful flows the Rhine, The thirsty summits are drinking The sunset's flooding wine;

       The loveliest maiden is sitting High-throned in yon blue air, Her golden jewels are shining, She combs her golden hair;

       She combs with a comb that is golden, And sings a weird refrain

       That steeps in a deadly enchantment

       121

       The list'ner's ravished brain:

       The doomed in his drifting shallop, Is tranced with the sad sweet tone, He sees not the yawning breakers, He sees but the maid alone:

       The pitiless billows engulf him!-- So perish sailor and bark;

       And this, with her baleful singing, Is the Lorelei's gruesome work.

       I have a translation by Garnham, Bachelor of Arts, in the LEGENDS OF THE RHINE, but it would not answer the purpose I mentioned above, because

       the measure is too nobly irregular; it don't fit the tune snugly enough;

       in places it hangs over at the ends too far, and in other places one

       runs out of words before he gets to the end of a bar. Still, Garnham's translation has high merits, and I am not dreaming of leaving it out of

       my book. I believe this poet is wholly unknown in America and England; I

       take peculiar pleasure in bringing him forward because I consider that I

       discovered him:

       THE LORELEI

       Translated by L. W. Garnham, B.A.

       I do not know СКАЧАТЬ