Faust. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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СКАЧАТЬ fasten;

      Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead:

      Disciple, up! untiring, hasten

      To bathe thy breast in morning-red!”

      (He contemplates the sign.)

      How each the Whole its substance gives,

      Each in the other works and lives!

      Like heavenly forces rising and descending,

      Their golden urns reciprocally lending,

      With wings that winnow blessing

      From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,

      Filling the All with harmony unceasing!

      How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone.

      Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own?

      Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining,

      Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire,

      Whereto our withered hearts aspire,–

      Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining?

      (He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the

      Earth-Spirit.)

      How otherwise upon me works this sign!

      Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer:

      Even now my powers are loftier, clearer;

      I glow, as drunk with new-made wine:

      New strength and heart to meet the world incite me,

      The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me,

      And though the shock of storms may smite me,

      No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me!

      Clouds gather over me–

      The moon conceals her light–

      The lamp’s extinguished!–

      Mists rise,–red, angry rays are darting

      Around my head!–There falls

      A horror from the vaulted roof,

      And seizes me!

      I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke!

      Reveal thyself!

      Ha! in my heart what rending stroke!

      With new impulsion

      My senses heave in this convulsion!

      I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me:

      Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!

      (He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of

       the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in

      the flame.)

      SPIRIT

      Who calls me?

      FAUST (with averted head)

      Terrible to see!

      SPIRIT

      Me hast thou long with might attracted,

      Long from my sphere thy food exacted,

      And now–

      FAUST

      Woe! I endure not thee!

      SPIRIT

      To view me is thine aspiration,

      My voice to hear, my countenance to see;

      Thy powerful yearning moveth me,

      Here am I!–what mean perturbation

      Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where?

      Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear,

      And shaped and cherished–which with joy expanded,

      To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded?

      Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me,

      Who towards me pressed with all thine energy?

      He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing,

      Trembles through all the depths of being,

      A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?

      FAUST

      Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear?

      Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer!

      SPIRIT

      In the tides of Life, in Action’s storm,

      A fluctuant wave,

      A shuttle free,

      Birth and the Grave,

      An eternal sea,

      A weaving, flowing

      Life, all-glowing,

      Thus at Time’s humming loom ‘tis my hand prepares

      The garment of Life which the Deity wears!

      FAUST

      Thou, who around the wide world wendest,

      Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee!

      SPIRIT

      Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest,

      Not me!

      (Disappears.)

      FAUST (overwhelmed)

      Not thee!

      Whom then?

      I, image of the Godhead!

      Not even like thee!

      (A СКАЧАТЬ