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diff --git a/old/7erot10.txt b/old/7erot10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c59d882 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7erot10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1673 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Erotica Romana, by Johann Wolfgang Goethe +#38 in our series by Johann Wolfgang Goethe + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Erotica Romana + +Author: Johann Wolfgang Goethe + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7889] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 31, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA *** + + + + +Produced by Harry Haile and Mike Pullen + + + + +EROTICA ROMANA + +Johann Wolfgang Goethe + + + + +I + +Here's where I've planted my garden and here I shall care for love's blossoms-- + + As I am taught by my muse, carefully sort them in plots: + +Fertile branches, whose product is golden fruit of my lifetime, + + Set here in happier years, tended with pleasure today. + +You, stand here at my side, good Priapus--albeit from thieves I've + + Nothing to fear. Freely pluck, whosoever would eat. + +--Hypocrites, those are the ones! If weakened with shame and bad conscience + + One of those criminals comes, squinting out over my garden, + +Bridling at nature's pure fruit, punish the knave in his hindparts, + + Using the stake which so red rises there at your loins. + + +II + +Tell me ye stones and give me O glorious palaces answer. + + Speak O ye streets but one word. Genius, art thou alive? + +Yes, here within thy sanctified walls there's a soul in each object, + + ROMA eternal. For me, only, are all things yet mute. + +Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window + + Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love? + +Can't I divine yet the paths through which over and over + + To her and from her I'll go, squandering valuable time? + +Visiting churches and palaces, all of the ruins and the pillars, + + I, a responsible man, profit from making this trip. + +With my business accomplished, ah, then shall only one temple, + + AMOR's temple alone, take the initiate in. + +Rome, thou art a whole world, it is true, and yet without love this + + World would not be the world, Rome would cease to be Rome. + + +III + +More than ever I dreamed, I have found it: my happy good fortune! + + Cupid sagaciously led past those palazzos so fine. + +He of course knows very well (and I have also discovered) + + What, beneath tapestries rich, gilded boudoirs conceal. + +One may if one wishes call him a blind, wanton boy--but I know you, + + Clever Cupid, too well! O, incorruptible god! + +We were by no means inveigled to enter facades so majestic; + + Somber cortile we passed, balcony high and gallant, + +Hastening onward until an humble but exquisite portal + + Offered a refuge to both, ardent seeker and guide. + +Here he provides me with ev'rything, sees that I get what I call for; + + Each day that passes he spreads freshly plucked roses for me. + +--Isn't that heaven on earth? Say, beautiful Lady Borghese, + + What would you give to me more? --You, Nipotina, what yours? + +Banquets and game tables, operas, balls, promenades down the Corso? + + These but deprive my sweet boy of his most opportune times. + +Finery, haughtiness do not entice me. Does one not lift a + + Gown of the finest brocade just as one lifts common wool? + +If she's to press in comfort a lover against that soft bosom, + + Doesn't he want her to be free from all brooches and chains? + +Must not the jewelry, and then the lace and the bustles and whalebone + + All of it come off entire, if he's to learn how she feels? + +I encounter no troubles like those. Simple dress of rough homespun, + + At but a lover's mere touch, tumbles in folds to the floor. + +Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen-- + + Just as a nursemaid might, playfully up to her bed. + +Drapings of satin are absent; the mattress is quite unembroidered. + + Large is this room where the bed offers its comfort for two. + +Jupiter's welcome to more from his Juno if he can get it; + + Let any mortal find rest, softer, wherever he can. + +We are content with Cupid's delights, authentic and naked-- + + And with the exquisite creak /crack of the bed as it rocks. + + +IV + +Ask whomever you will but you'll never find out where I'm lodging, + + High society's lords, ladies so groomed and refined. + +"Tell me, was Werther authentic? Did all of that happen in real life?" + + "Lotte, oh where did she live, Werther's only true love?" + +How many times have I cursed those frivolous pages that broadcast + + Out among all mankind passions I felt in my youth! + +Were he my brother, why then I 'd have murdered poor Werther. + + Yet his despondent ghost couldn't have sought worse revenge. + +That's the way "Marlborough," the ditty, follows the Englishman's travels + + Down to Livorno from France, thence from Livorno to Rome, + +All of the way into Naples and then, should he flee on to Madras, + + "Marlborough" will surely be there, "Marlborough" sung in the port. + +Happily now I've escaped, and my mistress knows Werther and Lotte + + Not a whit better than who might be this man in her bed: + +That he's a foreigner, footloose and lusty, is all she could tell you, + + Who beyond mountains and snow, dwelt in a house made of wood. + + +V + +Do not, beloved, regret that you yielded to me so quickly: + + I entertain no base, insolent thoughts about you. + +Arrows of Cupid work divers effects. Some do but scratch us: + + Slow and insidious these poison our hearts over years. + +Yet with a head freshly honed and cunningly fledged, certain others + + Pierce to the marrow, inflame rapidly there our blood. + +When gods and goddesses in days of heroes made love, then + + Lust followed look and desire, with no delay, was indulged. + +Surely you don't think the goddess of love lost a moment reflecting + + When, in Idean grove, Anchises caught her eye. + +Nor did Luna delay about kissing that beautiful dreamer-- + + Jealous Aurora had else hastily wakened the lad. + +At the loud banquet Hero regarded Leander--then promptly + + Into dark waters he plunged, ardently swam toward his love. + +When Rhea Silvia, princess and virgin, came down to the Tiber + + Just to fetch water, a god seized her and that is the way + +Mars begat himself sons, a pair of twins whom a she wolf + + Suckled. Today a proud Rome claims to be queen of the world. + + +VI + +We are so pious, we lovers. Discreetly we worship all powers, + + Hoping for favor from each god and each goddess as well. + +We are like you, ye victorious Romans, in this: for we offer + + Gods of all peoples and tribes, over the whole world, a home-- + +May the Egyptian, black and austere out of primeval basalt, + + Or from the marble a Greek, form them charming and white-- + +Yet the eternal ones do not object to particularism + + (Incense of most precious sort, strewn for just one of their host). + +Therefore we gladly confess to singling a special immortal + + And our devotions each day pledging but solely to her. + +Mischievous celebrants we at these mysteries gay, and so solemn: + + Silence exactly befits rites at which we're adepts. + +Rather onto our heels by horrible deeds the Erinyes + + We would allure, even Zeus' punishment sooner we'd dare-- + +Under that rock, or bound to a tumbling wheel we'd endure it-- + + Than we'd withdraw our hearts from the delights of her cult. + +Sweet Opportunity, that is her name. You should meet her. + + Often will she turn up, ever in a new form. + +Daughter of Proteus might well she be whom he sired upon Thetis. + + In metamorphoses they've many a hero deceived. + +So now the daughter beguiles the naive and bedazzles the foolish, + + Teases you while you're asleep; when you awaken, she's flown. + +Eagerly yields herself up to the quick, to the active man only. + + He discovers she's tame, playful and tender and sweet. + +Once she appeared to me, too: a dark-skinned girl, tumbling + + Over her forehead the hair down in waves heavy and dark. + +Round about a delicate neck curled short little ringlets; + + Up from the crown of her head crinkled the unbraided hair. + +When she dashed by me I seized her, mistaking her not. Lovingly + + Kiss and embrace she returned, knowing and teaching me how. + +O how enraptured I was! Ah, say now no more. It's a bygone. + + But, O pigtails of Rome, still I'm entrammled in you. + + +VII + +Happily now on classical soil I feel inspiration. + + Voices from present and past speak here evocatively. + +Heeding ancient advice, I leaf through the works of the Ancients + + With an assiduous hand. Daily the pleasure's renewed. + +Throughout the night, in a different way, I'm kept busy by Cupid-- + + If erudition is halved, rapture is doubled that way. + +Do then I not become wise when I trace with my eye her sweet bosom's + + Form, and the line of her hips stroke with my hand? I acquire, + +As I reflect and compare, my first understanding of marble, + + See with an eye that feels, feel with a hand that sees. + +While my beloved, I grant it, deprives me of moments of daylight, + + She in the nighttime hours gives compensation in full. + +And we do more than just kiss; we prosecute reasoned discussions + + (Should she succumb to sleep, that gives me time for my thoughts). + +In her embrace--it's by no means unusual--I've composed poems + + And the hexameter's beat gently tapped out on her back, + +Fingertips counting in time with the sweet rhythmic breath of her slumber. + + Air from deep in her breast penetrates mine and there burns. + +Cupid, while stirring the flame in our lamp, no doubt thinks of those days when + + For the triumvirs he similar service performed. + + +VIII + +"Can you be cruel enough to sadden me thus with reproaches? + + Germans speak, I suppose, bitterly when they're in love. + +Bear it I must when the gossips bring forth accusations: I'm guilty-- + + Or am I not? But, alas, all of my guilt was with you. + +Clothes that you've given bear witness for envious neighbors + + That the poor widow no more grieves for her husband alone. + +Did you not thoughtlessly visit me in the disguise of a cleric, + + Muffled all up in a cloak, hair all rounded behind? + +Who was it chose that gray monk if not you? Well then a prelate + + Now is my lover--Ah, who is my prelate but you? + +Never, incredible as it may sound in this clerical city, + + Has any cleric brought me--swear it I will--to his bed. + +I was sufficiently poor, sad to say. I was young. The seducers + + Noted it well. Falconier ogled me often enough. + +One of the pimps for Albani with billets doux very impressive + + Called me to Ostia once. Quattro Fontani next time. + +Who was it did not appear there? Why, who but the very same girl who + + Hated with all of her heart stockings both violet and red. + +For: 'In the end you poor girls are the ones who are sure to be cheated.' + + So said my father although--Mother was not much impressed. + +Father was right. Here I stand in the end being cheated and scolded. + + You don't believe your own words. They're your excuse to escape. + +Go, then. Unworthy of women are men. We, who carry your children + + Next to our hearts, in these hearts loyalty we bear you, too. + +As for you men, when you've poured out your potency in our embraces + + And your desires dissipate, love with them passes away." + +These things expressed, and taking her child from its chair, my beloved + + Presses it close to her heart, kisses it, tears in her eyes. + +I'm now so very ashamed of myself for having permitted + + Gossip of neighbors to spoil picture so eloquent. + +For a short moment a fire may burn darkly while smoke swirls about it. + + Water dashed on the coals suddenly smothers their glow. + +Rapidly then renewed heat overcomes those lowering vapors, + + Sends up a flame that anew bright and more powerful gleams. + + +IX + +How very happy I am here in Rome when I think of the bad days + + Far back there in the north, wrapped in a grayish light. + +Over my head there the heavens weighed down so dismal and gloomy; + + Colorless, formless, that world round this exhausted man lay. + +Seeking myself in myself, an unsatisfied spirit, I brooded, + + Spying out pathways dark, lost in dreary reflection. + +Here in an ather more clear now a luster encircles my forehead. + + Phoebus the god evokes forms, clear are his colors by day. + +Bright with the stars comes the evening, ringing with songs that are tender, + + And the glow of the moon, brighter than northern sun. + +What blessedness mortals may know! Am I now dreaming? Or welcomes + + Jupiter, Father, as guest--me, to ambrosial halls? + +See, I lie here extending my arms toward your knees. I am praying: + + Hospitality's god, Jupiter Xenius! Hear: + +How I am come to this place I no longer can say--I was + + Seized up by Hebe. 'Twas she led to this sacred hill. + +Did you command her a hero to seek and deliver before you ? + + May be she erred. Then forgive. Let her mistake profit me! + +Does not Fortuna, your daughter, when strewing her glorious presents, + + After the manner of girls, yield to each passing whim? + +You, O hospitable god, will by no means now banish a stranger + + From your Olympian heights back to the base earth again. + +"Poet, come to your senses!"--Forgive me, Jupiter, is not + + Rome's Capitoline Hill second Olympus to you? + +Suffer me, Jupiter, here and let Hermes guide me at last then + + Past Cestius' Tomb gently to Orkus below. + + +X + +When you were small, you say, neither did others consider you f air, nor + + Even your mother find praise--and I believe it-- + +Till you grew bigger, developing quietly over the years. I + + Picture you to myself as an unusual child. + +Also the blossoms on grapevines are wanting in shape and in color, + + Although the fruit when it's ripe pleases both mankind and gods. + + +XI + +Kindling autumnal fire in a rustic, convivial fireplace + + (How the sticks crackle and spew flames and glittering sparks!) + +Strikes me especially pleasant this evening. Before all my tinder + + Dies away into coals, coals then to ashes decline, + +She will be back and new faggots as well as big logs will be blazing, + + Making a festival where lovers will warm up the night. + +Then in the morning, officious, she'll leave the bed of her lover, + + Rouse adroitly the flames out from their ashes anew. + +Cupid has lent to her above others the gift of cajoling + + Up from the ashes desire, just when slumber's begun. + + +XII + +All of those greats: Alexander, Caesar and Henry and Fredrick, + + Gladly would share with me half of their hard fought renown, + +Could I but grant them my bed for one single night, and its comfort, + + But the poor wretches are held stark in cold Orkian grip. + +Therefore, ye living, rejoice that love keeps you warm for a while yet, + + Until cold Lethe anoints, captures your foot in its flight. + + +XIII + +They are for you, O ye graces, just a few leaves by a poet + + Onto your pure altar laid, buds of the rose beside, + +Offered in confidence. Artists enjoy ateliers which are furnished + + So as to make for a space Pantheon-like in decor: + +Jupiter lowers that godly brow while his Juno looks upward; + + Phoebus takes forward strides, shaking his curly head; + +While phlegmatic Minerva peers down on us, frivolous Hermes + + Seems to be looking askance, roguish, though tender as well. + +But it's to Bacchus, the sensuous dreamer, Cythera sends glances + + Bathed in sweetest desire--even in marble they're damp. + +Thinking about his embrace and its pleasures, she seems to be asking + + Shouldn't our glorious son here at our side stand erect? + + +XIV + +Can't you hear voices, beloved, out on the Via Flamina? + + Reapers are now going home, back from harvesting grain. + +They had journeyed to Rome from afar, and here plaited for Ceres + + Wreaths which the Romans today scorn to make for themselves. + +Festivals no longer celebrate Ceres, the nourishing goddess + + Who replaced acorns of old, giving man golden wheat. + +Let us commemorate her then ourselves in festival private + + (Two constitute a whole tribe, when they are two in love). + +Have you by any chance heard how that mystical, strange celebration + + Followed victorious troops back from Eleusis to Rome? + +Greeks were the ones who began it, and only to Greeks they proclaimed it + + Even within Roman walls: "Come to the sanctified night." + +Those who were not of the cult kept their distance; neophytes trembled, + + Waiting in garments of white, symbol of all that is pure. + +Then the initiates must aimlessly wander about through the eerie + + Circles of figures as if pilgriming through their own dreams. + +Snakes on the ground were writhing about. Now virgins came bearing + + Caskets securely locked, richly wreathed with grain. + +Surely the gestures of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning-- + + Impatient acolytes wait, anxiously hoping for light. + +Not until after many a testing and trial did they discover + + What, within sacred ring, secretive image concealed. + +What was this mystery other than this: that Demeter, goddess, + + Once upon a time had to a hero been kind. + +It was to Jason, powerful king of the Cretans, she granted + + Of her immortal self hidden sweet parts to explore. + +That made the fortune of Crete! The marital bed of the goddess + + Soon grew pregnant with grain, heavy her bounteous fields. + +As for the rest of the world, it languished away, while Ceres, + + Derelict of her true task, dalliance offered in love. + +--Now the initiate youths, having followed this tale, all astonished, + + Turned and beckoned their loves--love, do you comprehend? + +See there the sacred shade beneath that bushy-boughed myrtle? + + Our satisfaction will there scarcely endanger a world. + + + XV + +Cupid is always a scoundrel, and if you believe him he'll cheat you. + + Here's what the hypocrite said: "Trust me just once more, this time. + +I have the best of intentions toward you who have now dedicated-- + + I recognize it with thanks--life and writings to me. + +Lo, I have followed you hither to Rome, and I'd like to do something + + Here in this far away land pleasing to such an old friend. + +Every traveller I've ever known has complained of poor treatment: + + He whom I recommend treatment delicious receives. + +You've now regarded with awe all the structures which lie here in ruins, + + Cultivated your eye, sensing each hallowed space. + +How you've revered the formative will of those ancient artists! + + In their own ateliers often I''ve visited them. + +As for their works, why, I formed those myself--now this time I'm boasting + + Not. Oh come now, admit what I am saying is true. + +Where are your own creations, your service to me having slackened? + + Where is invention's glow now? Where is the color all gone? + +Friend, do you hope you can create again? --The school of the Ancients + + Yet remains open. Its gates, years have not closed them to you. + +I am eternally young, and as teacher I still love the young ones. + + Wisdom that comes with old age pleases me not. Listen here: + +Wasn't antiquity young when those fortunate Ancients were living? + + Happy then be your life, too: in it antiquity lives. + +Where will you find a fit theme for your song? --It is I must provide it. + + As for a style truly grand, love can alone give you that." + +All of these claims that sophist asserted. Could I contradict him? + + I am wont to obey, when my commander decrees. + +Treacherous now he is keeping his word: giving me themes for my poems + + While he is stealing my time, potency, presence of mind. + +Gazing into her eyes, holding hands, giving kisses, exchanging + + Syllables sweet and those words lovers alone understand, + +Murmuring our conversations we stutter in sweet oratory. + + Hymns of such sort pass away, wanting prosodical tact. + +Goddess of morning, Aurora, as friend of my muse I once knew you. + + Has the unprincipled god, Cupid, seduced you now too? + +So that these mornings you come as his sweetheart, awakening me at + + His festive altar again, where I must celebrate him? + +Here on my breast flows her hair, an abundance of curls, while her head rests, + + Pressing my arm as it's bent, so as to pillow her neck. + +What a delicious condition, if only these few tranquil moments + + Could in my memory fix firmly that image of joy + +When the night rocked us to sleep--but in slumber she's moving away now, + + From my side turns, as she goes leaving her hand in my hand. + +Love in our hearts makes us one, as the genuine need there stays constant; + + Only returning desire knows oscillation or change. + +Gently her hand presses mine, now she opens her eyes and is looking + + Into my own eyes. No--don't. Let my thoughts rest on your form! + +Please close your eyes. They're inebriation, confusion, they rob me + + All too soon of the joy quiet reflection affords. + +Grand are the forms of this body and nobly positioned each member. + + Had Ariadne lain thus, Theseus never had fled. + +Only a single kiss for these lips and then, O Theseus, leave her; + + Look at her eyes--she's awake! Now you're eternally bound. + + +XVI + +Boy, won't you light me a lamp. "But dear master, there's light in the sky yet. + + Don't waste your oil and the wick. Don't close the shutters so soon. + +Only the houses are blocking the sun there, it's not yet the mountains. + + Until the curfew shall ring, full half an hour must pass." + +Wretched young fellow, be gone and obey me! My loved one is coming. + + Lamplight, console me till then, harbinger warm of the night. + + +XVII + +Poets of old in chorus cried out against those two serpents, + + Making them horrible names, hated in all of the world: + +Python the one, the other the Hydra of Lerna. These monsters + + Both have now been destroyed, thanks to the deeds of the gods. + +Fire-breathing, venomous once, they no longer now depredate our + + Flocks and meadows and woods, fields of golden grain. + +How is it then that some spiteful god in his wrath has + + Raised from the poisonous slime offspring so monstrous again? + +There's an insidious viper creeps into the loveliest gardens, + + Lying in wait to attack all who seek pleasure therein. + +Noble Hesperian dragon, I call you courageous and forthright. + + Boldly defending your own beautiful apples of gold. + +As for this worm, why he is not guarding at all, for his presence + + Sullies both garden and fruit, till they deserve no defense. + +Secretly coiled beneath bushes, where he befouls the sweet wellsprings, + + Turning to poisonous drool Cupid's lifegiving dew. + +Happy Lucretius knew how in his day to forego love completely, + + Fearing not to enjoy pleasure in anyone's arms. + +Fortunate Ancient, Propertius, for you a slave fetched the girls down + + From the Aventine Hill, from Tarpeia's grove. + +Cynthia then, when driving you out of such unchaste embraces, + + Found you unfaithful, it's true, but she did find you whole. + +Who would today dare attempt to escape from fidelity's ennui? + + Love does not hold one back--only concern for one's health. + +Even the woman we love may afford us uncertain enjoyment; + + Nowhere can feminine lap safely encouch a man's head. + +Matrimonial bed's insecure and so's fornication; + + Husband, lover and wife pass to each other the hurt. + +Think of those ages of gold when Jupiter followed his urges, + + Chose Callisto one day, turned to Semel the next. + +It was important to him to find thresholds of temples so sacred + + Pure when, enamoured, he sought powerful entry to them. + +Can you imagine the ragings of Juno if in love's skirmish + + Poisonous weapons on her by her own spouse had been turned? + +But we neo-pagans may not after all be abandoned entirely: + + Yet there is speeding a god mercifully over the earth, + +Quick and assiduous. Everyone knows him and ought to adore him, + + Herald of Zeus: Hermes, the healing god. + +Although his father's temple be fallen, and though of its pillars + + Scarcely a pair yet records ancient glory adored, + +Nevertheless the son's place of worship still stands, and forever + + Will there the ardent requests alternate with the thanks. + +Only one favor I beg of you, Graces (I ask it in secret-- + + Fervent my prayer and deep, out of a passionate breast): + +My little garden, my sweet one, protect it and do not let any + + Evil come near it nor me. Cupid will hold out his hand: + +O, and entrusting myself to the rascal, I beg you please may I + + Do so in pleasure with no danger or worry or fear. + + +XVIII + +I cannot think I'd have gone with Julius Caesar to Britain; + + To the Popina right here, Florus would tug me with ease. + +Fogs of the dreary north remain a more baleful remembrance + + Than in the kitchens of Rome tribes of assiduous fleas. + +After today, I'll remember you even more kindly, tavernas, + + You osterias, as you are called, aptly by those here in Rome. + +That was the place I encountered my mistress today with the uncle + + Whom she so often deceives, so that she can have me. + +Here's where I sat at a table surrounded by good-natured Germans; + + Over on that side the girl, finding a seat for herself + +Next to her mother where, frequently shifting her bench, she arranged + + Nicely for me to perceive profile and curve of her neck; + +Speaks just a little more loudly than women in Rome are accustomed; + + Significant glance as she pours--misses the glass with the wine + +So that it spills on the table, and she with a delicate finger + + Over its surface can draw circles in damp arabesque: + +Her name entwining in mine, while my eyes most eagerly follow + + All that her fingertip writes. She is of course well aware + +That I am watching, so finally makes the V of the Roman + + Five, with a virgule before. Quickly, as soon as I've seen, + +She interlaces the circles, reducing them all to ornatest + + Patterns--but still the sweet IV stood as engraved in my eye. + +I sat there mutely and biting my passionate lips almost bloody + + Half from delight at the ruse, partly from stifled desire: + +Such a long time until dark, then another four hours of waiting. + + --Sun, who tarries on high, contemplating Rome: + +Greater never you've nor shall you in future see greater + + Than Rome, O sun, as your priest, Horace, enraptured foretold. + +Tarry no longer today. Go seek other realms beneath heaven. + + Sooner depart and leave Rome's seven famed hills to me. + +Please do the poet a favor and shorten the glorious hours + + Which the painter devours, eagerly filling his eyes. + +Cast now but one ardent glance, while descending, on noble facades and + + Cupolas, pillars, and--last--up at the obelisks. Then + +Hastily plunge to the ocean. Come view all the sooner tomorrow + + That which, for centuries now, gods have let you enjoy: + +Italy's shoreline so long overgrown with moist reeds, elevations + + Somberly rising to shades cast by the bushes and trees. + +First were but few simple dwellings here, suddenly sunlight discovered + + Nations enlivening hills teeming with fortunate thieves. + +Onto this spot they assembled such plunder, in your eye so splendid + + All earth's remaining orb scarcely was worthy of note. + +You watched a world being born here, watched the same world sink to ruin, + + And from those ruins yet arise world again greater, perhaps. + +O may I long by your light now behold this Rome. May the Parca + + Spin the fine thread of my life slowly, taking great care. + +O but come rushing the moment my love designated so sweetly. + + Wonderful! Sound already the chimes? --No, but I heard at least three. + +Thus, my dear muses, again you've beguiled the monotony for me. + + Of this long interval while I was apart from my love. + +All of you now, farewell! I'll be going now--don't be offended. + + For, though you're proud, you'll concede: Cupid in my heart comes first. + + +XIX + +Why did you fail to appear at the cot in the vineyard today, Love? + + As I had promised I would, long I awaited you there. + +"Dear, I had almost arrived when I saw, by good fortune, your uncle + + Standing right there by the vines, looking now this way, now that. + +Stealthily I slipped away." --Alas, what a misapprehension! + + You saw the scarecrow, that's all. Nothing else drove you away. + +Reeds and some discarded garments all hastily cobbled together-- + + I helped to make it myself: diligent in my own grief. + +"Well, now his wish is fulfilled. The old gardner's most dissolute crow has + + Left on this day unscathed nice little garden and niece." + + +XX + +While there is many an unpleasant sound, I hate to hear barking + + Worse than anything else. Bellowing dogs split my ears. + +Nevertheless I do like to hear, and take pleasure in listening + + To the loud howl of the dog raised from a pup next door. + +That is the dog that so bayed one time at my girl that he almost + + Gave our secret away (when she was visiting me). + +Now, when I hear the dog barking I think my beloved is coming-- + + Or I remember the time, when long awaited she came. + + +XXI + +I can tell not only about a discomfort far greater than others, + + But of a horror besides, thinking of which will arouse + +Every fiber in me to revulsion. My friends, I confess it: + + Great displeasure I take lying alone in my bed. + +But it's a horror to fear on the pathways of love you'll discover + + Snakes and their venom beneath roses of eager desire-- + +That at the moment supreme, when I'm yielding to pleasure so fully, + + Right at my head as it droops, hissing disease may approach. + +That's why Faustina as my companion in bed makes me happy: + + Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her. + +Young men are aroused in their passions by obstacles and by excitement; + + I prefer to go slow, savoring pleasures secure. + +Is it not bliss to exchange tender kisses containing no dangers, + + Sucking into our lungs, carefree, our partner's own life? + +That is the way our long nights of enjoyment are passed. We listen, + + Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind + +Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching + + Blossoms that will adorn festive the coming new day. + +Quirites, permit me the joy, and may this, of all pleasures on earth the + + First and the last, be vouchsafed all of mankind by the god. + + +XXII + +Ah, to uphold one's respectable name is not easy. The Lady + + Fame has an ancient foe: Cupid, my master and lord. + +Oh, by the way, have you heard of the cause of their mutual hatred? + + It's an old story, I think--Let me just tell it again. + +Powerful ever the goddess, but nevertheless to her fellows + + Overbearing and rude, quite unendurable. She + +Had by the gods since time out of mind at their banquets been dreaded, + + Yelling with brassiest voice orders to great and to small. + +Once, in her arrogance even maintained that she had subjected + + To her own will, as her slave, Jove's most illustrious son. + +"One of these days, O father of deities," cried she in triumph, + + "I shall be bringing you my--Hercules, as if new born. + +Don't think that Hercules be still that boy whom Alcmene once bore you; + + His adulation of me makes him now god upon earth. + +When toward Olympus he gazes, I've no doubt you hope that he's looking + + Piously toward your knees. Hardly. He's looking for me. + +Worthiest man! O the vision of winning my favor makes easy + + Hitherto unexplored paths, under that powerful foot. + +I do my part, for I meet him halfway and proclaim his adventures + + Praising his name in advance, even before he's begun. + +One day you'll wed me to Hercules. Hero who Amazons conquered + + That day will overwhelm me. Happily I'll call him: spouse." + +All of the gods kept their counsel, and none would reply to the braggart, + + Lest in a pique she devise vengeance against one of them. + +Cupid, escaping attention, slipped off to enslave, however, her hero: + + Artlessly conquering by--force of a beautiful girl, + +Afterward decked out his couple in mute masquerade: lionskin + + Over her shoulders, the club leaned (by much toil) at her side; + +Wiry stiff hair of the hero larded with blossoms, a distaff + + Laid in his fist, to conform strength to the dalliance of love. + +Scene now completed and ready to tease, he goes scampering, shouting + + For all Olympus to hear: "Come, see these glorious deeds! + +Heaven and Earth and the Sun on his indefatigable journey + + Over that infinite path never did witness the like!" + +Everyone hastened, gulled by the dissolute boy, who feigning + + Earnest, had summoned them all (Fame by no means lagged behind). + +Which of the gods will now smile in sweet condescension on Cupid? + + --Juno! delighted, of course, seeing a man humbled so. + +Fame, on the other hand, stood there ashamed, embarrassed, despairing. + + First she just laughed, saying: "Gods, be not deceived. It's a masque. + +I know my hero too well to be fooled by disguises of actors." + + Soon, though, in pain she perceived: Hercules, none but he. + +(Vulcan had not been one thousandth so vexed to discover his playmate + + Under his meshes ensnared, caught with his own lusty friend, + +Lying just as the wiles of the net at the most crucial moment + + Deftly embraced their embrace, trapping their instant of joy. + +How those boys, Bacchus and Mercury, guffawed, and freely admitted: + + Sweet must be the repose, lying on bosom so fine + +Of this magnificent woman. They turned to Vulcan entreating: + + "Do not release them just yet. Let us inspect them once more." + +And the old cuckold was cuckold enough to comply with their wishes.) + + As for poor Fame, in all haste, burning with wrath she must flee. + +Since then no armistice has been proclaimed to the feuding between them. + + Let her but favor a man, hot in pursuit is the boy. + +He whom Fame honors most can least defend against Cupid, + + And her most dang'rous attacks strike the most morally proud. + +Whoever tries to escape him is dragged down from bad deeds to worse ones. + + Yes, he will offer you girls--if like a fool you despise + +These, only then do you feel from his bow the arrows most vicious: + + Heat of man's love for man, ardent desires toward beasts. + +For those ashamed of him Cupid reserves the bitterest passions, + + Mingling for hypocrites their pleasure in vice and remorse. + +But, at the same time, the goddess seeks him, she's watching and list'ning. + + Should find him with you, ill disposed will she be: + +Frighten you, frowning austerely, contemptuously, violently casting + + Into the worst of repute houses he's known to frequent. + +Ah, it's the same with me, too. I haven't escaped her, the goddess. + + Jealously she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose. + +I will submit to the ancient law and in silence revere her, + + For, when great lords fall out, I like the Greeks must atone. + + +XXIII + +However comely be strength, or free and undaunted comportment, + + Secrecy is for a man most important of all. + +Mighty subduer of cities, Discretion, O princess of nations, + + Goddess whom I adore, safely you've led me thus far. + +Now, though, what fate shall befall me? My frivolous muse has now opened + + --Cupid, the scamp--opens lips hitherto sealed so well. + +Difficult is it, alas, to conceal the shame of a monarch; + + Hide it can neither his crown, nor a tight Phrygian cap: + +Midas has asses ears! the first servant discovers--O horror! + + Shame of this secret so weighs, Midas unburdens his heart. + +Into the earth for safekeeping the servant must bury the story, + + Easing in this way the king: earth must conceal the tale. + +Reeds in a trice are sprouting and rustling in murmuring breezes: + + "Midas, o Midas the King--bears the ears of an ass!" + +Mine is a secret more pleasant, but even more difficult keeping: + + Out of abundance of heart eagerly speaketh my mouth. + +None of my ladyfriends dare I confide in, for they would but chide me; + + Nor any gentleman friend, lest he be rival to me. + +Rapture proclaim to the grove, to the echoing cliffs perorate it? + + One can do that if one's young, or if one's lonely enough. + +I to hexameters tell, in pentameters I will confide it: + + During the day she was joy, happiness all the night long. + +Courted by so many suitors, avoided the snares that were set her + + Now by one bolder than I, now by another in guile, + +Cleverly, daintily, always slipped past them, and sure of the byways, + + Comes to her lover's embrace, where he so eagerly waits. + +Luna! Don't rise yet. She's coming, and must not be seen by the neighbor! + + Breezes, rustle the leaves: muffle the sound of her feet. + +And as for you, little poems, o grow and flower, your blossoms + + Cradling themselves in the air, tepid and soft with love's breath. + +Wafting, betray to Quirites, as Midas' reeds did with cheap gossip, + + One happy couple in love, and their sweet secret, at last. + + +XXIV + +I in the back of the garden, the last of the gods, in a corner, + + Ineptly formed, must I stand. Evil the inroads of time. + +Cucumber vines grow entwining about this primeval lingam, + + Cracking it almost in two under the weight of the fruit. + +Faggots are heaped all about me against the cold of the winter, + + Which I so hate for the crows settling then down on my head, + +Which they befoul very shamefully. Summer's no better: the servants + + Empty their bowels and show insolent, naked behinds. + +Filth, above and below! I was clearly in danger of turning + + Into filth myself, toadstool, rotten wood! + +Now, by your efforts, O noblest of artists, I shall recover + + With fellow gods my just place. And it's no more than my due. + +Jupiter's throne, so dishonestly won, it was I who secured it: + + Color and ivory, marble and bronze, not to mention the poems. + +Now, all intelligent men look upon me in kindness. They like to + + Form their own image of me, just as the poet has done. + +Nor do the girls take offense when they see me--by no means the matrons. + + None finds me ugly today, though I am monstrously strong. + +Half a foot long, as reward, your glorious rod (dear poet) + + Proudly shall strut from your loins, when but your dearest commands, + +Nor shall your member grow weary until you've enjoyed the full dozen + + Artful positions the great poet Philainis describes. + + + +About the Elegies + +Goethe cultivated a special, italianate hand for this portfolio of +twenty-four "elegies," so called because he was emulating the elegiasts of +Imperial Rome, Tibullus, Propertius, Catullus. The Elegies have never before +been published as here, together in the cyclical form of their original +conception. Experts even denied that the two priapeia (I & XXIV) were by +Goethe at all, although they are in the same hand as the rest. To be sure, +these two are not numbered, so that I was long undecided as to just what +their proper position might be. At one time I imagined they must belong at +the middle of the cycle where at the end of Elegy XIII Priapus' mother summons +her son. Obviously Goethe, just returned north from his two years in Italy +(1786-88), and alienated from prim, courtly friends (especially since he had +taken a girlfriend into his cottage), had no thought of publication when he +indited these remembrances of Ancient Rome. But he did show them to close +friends, one of whom was the wonderful dramatist Friedrich Schiller. In 1795, +Schiller undertook a new periodical, Die Horen. This thoughtful and +responsible man initiated the journal with an essay of his own, explaining +how forms of entertainment are actually at the same time our primary modes +of education. It makes for pretty difficult reading in our present, less +interested epoch. But he did break the essay up with diversions solicited +from the best minds of his era. For a discussion of all this, see + +Professor Worthy's Page + +For now, it is enough to say that among Schiller's examples for "aesthetic +education," as he called it, were these Elegies by his much admired friend, +Wolfgang Goethe. Editor and author made substantial changes for propriety's +sake--despite Goethe's having lashed out to the contrary in the first Elegy +(which he now suppressed, along with the final one). My attempt has been--for +the very first time by the way, in any language--to restore Goethe's cycle to +his early conception. Since I have been unwilling to intrude with learned +notes, I must apologize for Goethe's many classical allusions, which were as +familiar to his own readership as are, in our publications today, the dense +references to media celebrities. Modern editors of what they call the +"Roman Elegies" bring abundant annotation, and often detail Goethe's own +emendations. What I bring here is merely translated from his manuscript in +the Goethe-Schiller Archive in Weimar. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Erotica Romana, by Johann Wolfgang Goethe + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA *** + +This file should be named 7erot10.txt or 7erot10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7erot11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7erot10a.txt + +Produced by Harry Haile and Mike Pullen + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Freely pluck, whosoever would eat. + +--Hypocrites, those are the ones! If weakened with shame and bad conscience + + One of those criminals comes, squinting out over my garden, + +Bridling at nature's pure fruit, punish the knave in his hindparts, + + Using the stake which so red rises there at your loins. + + +II + +Tell me ye stones and give me O glorious palaces answer. + + Speak O ye streets but one word. Genius, art thou alive? + +Yes, here within thy sanctified walls there's a soul in each object, + + ROMA eternal. For me, only, are all things yet mute. + +Who will then tell me in whispers and where must I find just the window + + Where one day she'll be glimpsed: creature who'll scorch me with love? + +Can't I divine yet the paths through which over and over + + To her and from her I'll go, squandering valuable time? + +Visiting churches and palaces, all of the ruins and the pillars, + + I, a responsible man, profit from making this trip. + +With my business accomplished, ah, then shall only one temple, + + AMOR's temple alone, take the initiate in. + +Rome, thou art a whole world, it is true, and yet without love this + + World would not be the world, Rome would cease to be Rome. + + +III + +More than ever I dreamed, I have found it: my happy good fortune! + + Cupid sagaciously led past those palazzos so fine. + +He of course knows very well (and I have also discovered) + + What, beneath tapestries rich, gilded boudoirs conceal. + +One may if one wishes call him a blind, wanton boy--but I know you, + + Clever Cupid, too well! O, incorruptible god! + +We were by no means inveigled to enter façades so majestic; + + Somber cortilé we passed, balcony high and gallant, + +Hastening onward until an humble but exquisite portal + + Offered a refuge to both, ardent seeker and guide. + +Here he provides me with ev'rything, sees that I get what I call for; + + Each day that passes he spreads freshly plucked roses for me. + +--Isn't that heaven on earth? Say, beautiful Lady Borghese, + + What would you give to me more? --You, Nipotina, what yours? + +Banquets and game tables, operas, balls, promenades down the Corso? + + These but deprive my sweet boy of his most opportune times. + +Finery, haughtiness do not entice me. Does one not lift a + + Gown of the finest brocade just as one lifts common wool? + +If she's to press in comfort a lover against that soft bosom, + + Doesn't he want her to be free from all brooches and chains? + +Must not the jewelry, and then the lace and the bustles and whalebone + + All of it come off entire, if he's to learn how she feels? + +I encounter no troubles like those. Simple dress of rough homespun, + + At but a lover's mere touch, tumbles in folds to the floor. + +Quickly he carries the girl as she's clad in chemise of coarse linen-- + + Just as a nursemaid might, playfully up to her bed. + +Drapings of satin are absent; the mattress is quite unembroidered. + + Large is this room where the bed offers its comfort for two. + +Jupiter's welcome to more from his Juno if he can get it; + + Let any mortal find rest, softer, wherever he can. + +We are content with Cupid's delights, authentic and naked-- + + And with the exquisite creak /crack of the bed as it rocks. + + +IV + +Ask whomever you will but you'll never find out where I'm lodging, + + High society's lords, ladies so groomed and refined. + +"Tell me, was Werther authentic? Did all of that happen in real life?" + + "Lotte, oh where did she live, Werther's only true love?" + +How many times have I cursed those frivolous pages that broadcast + + Out among all mankind passions I felt in my youth! + +Were he my brother, why then I 'd have murdered poor Werther. + + Yet his despondent ghost couldn't have sought worse revenge. + +That's the way "Marlborough," the ditty, follows the Englishman's travels + + Down to Livorno from France, thence from Livorno to Rome, + +All of the way into Naples and then, should he flee on to Madras, + + "Marlborough" will surely be there, "Marlborough" sung in the port. + +Happily now I've escaped, and my mistress knows Werther and Lotte + + Not a whit better than who might be this man in her bed: + +That he's a foreigner, footloose and lusty, is all she could tell you, + + Who beyond mountains and snow, dwelt in a house made of wood. + + +V + +Do not, beloved, regret that you yielded to me so quickly: + + I entertain no base, insolent thoughts about you. + +Arrows of Cupid work divers effects. Some do but scratch us: + + Slow and insidious these poison our hearts over years. + +Yet with a head freshly honed and cunningly fledged, certain others + + Pierce to the marrow, inflame rapidly there our blood. + +When gods and goddesses in days of heroes made love, then + + Lust followed look and desire, with no delay, was indulged. + +Surely you don't think the goddess of love lost a moment reflecting + + When, in Idean grove, Anchises caught her eye. + +Nor did Luna delay about kissing that beautiful dreamer-- + + Jealous Aurora had else hastily wakened the lad. + +At the loud banquet Hero regarded Leander--then promptly + + Into dark waters he plunged, ardently swam toward his love. + +When Rhea Silvia, princess and virgin, came down to the Tiber + + Just to fetch water, a god seized her and that is the way + +Mars begat himself sons, a pair of twins whom a she wolf + + Suckled. Today a proud Rome claims to be queen of the world. + + +VI + +We are so pious, we lovers. Discreetly we worship all powers, + + Hoping for favor from each god and each goddess as well. + +We are like you, ye victorious Romans, in this: for we offer + + Gods of all peoples and tribes, over the whole world, a home-- + +May the Egyptian, black and austere out of primeval basalt, + + Or from the marble a Greek, form them charming and white-- + +Yet the eternal ones do not object to particularism + + (Incense of most precious sort, strewn for just one of their host). + +Therefore we gladly confess to singling a special immortal + + And our devotions each day pledging but solely to her. + +Mischievous celebrants we at these mysteries gay, and so solemn: + + Silence exactly befits rites at which we're adepts. + +Rather onto our heels by horrible deeds the Erinyes + + We would allure, even Zeus' punishment sooner we'd dare-- + +Under that rock, or bound to a tumbling wheel we'd endure it-- + + Than we'd withdraw our hearts from the delights of her cult. + +Sweet Opportunity, that is her name. You should meet her. + + Often will she turn up, ever in a new form. + +Daughter of Proteus might well she be whom he sired upon Thetis. + + In metamorphoses they've many a hero deceived. + +So now the daughter beguiles the naive and bedazzles the foolish, + + Teases you while you're asleep; when you awaken, she's flown. + +Eagerly yields herself up to the quick, to the active man only. + + He discovers she's tame, playful and tender and sweet. + +Once she appeared to me, too: a dark-skinned girl, tumbling + + Over her forehead the hair down in waves heavy and dark. + +Round about a delicate neck curled short little ringlets; + + Up from the crown of her head crinkled the unbraided hair. + +When she dashed by me I seized her, mistaking her not. Lovingly + + Kiss and embrace she returned, knowing and teaching me how. + +O how enraptured I was! Ah, say now no more. It's a bygone. + + But, O pigtails of Rome, still I'm entrammled in you. + + +VII + +Happily now on classical soil I feel inspiration. + + Voices from present and past speak here evocatively. + +Heeding ancient advice, I leaf through the works of the Ancients + + With an assiduous hand. Daily the pleasure's renewed. + +Throughout the night, in a different way, I'm kept busy by Cupid-- + + If erudition is halved, rapture is doubled that way. + +Do then I not become wise when I trace with my eye her sweet bosom's + + Form, and the line of her hips stroke with my hand? I acquire, + +As I reflect and compare, my first understanding of marble, + + See with an eye that feels, feel with a hand that sees. + +While my beloved, I grant it, deprives me of moments of daylight, + + She in the nighttime hours gives compensation in full. + +And we do more than just kiss; we prosecute reasoned discussions + + (Should she succumb to sleep, that gives me time for my thoughts). + +In her embrace--it's by no means unusual--I've composed poems + + And the hexameter's beat gently tapped out on her back, + +Fingertips counting in time with the sweet rhythmic breath of her slumber. + + Air from deep in her breast penetrates mine and there burns. + +Cupid, while stirring the flame in our lamp, no doubt thinks of those days when + + For the triumvirs he similar service performed. + + +VIII + +"Can you be cruel enough to sadden me thus with reproaches? + + Germans speak, I suppose, bitterly when they're in love. + +Bear it I must when the gossips bring forth accusations: I'm guilty-- + + Or am I not? But, alas, all of my guilt was with you. + +Clothes that you've given bear witness for envious neighbors + + That the poor widow no more grieves for her husband alone. + +Did you not thoughtlessly visit me in the disguise of a cleric, + + Muffled all up in a cloak, hair all rounded behind? + +Who was it chose that gray monk if not you? Well then a prelate + + Now is my lover--Ah, who is my prelate but you? + +Never, incredible as it may sound in this clerical city, + + Has any cleric brought me--swear it I will--to his bed. + +I was sufficiently poor, sad to say. I was young. The seducers + + Noted it well. Falconier ogled me often enough. + +One of the pimps for Albani with billets doux very impressive + + Called me to Ostia once. Quattro Fontani next time. + +Who was it did not appear there? Why, who but the very same girl who + + Hated with all of her heart stockings both violet and red. + +For: 'In the end you poor girls are the ones who are sure to be cheated.' + + So said my father although--Mother was not much impressed. + +Father was right. Here I stand in the end being cheated and scolded. + + You don't believe your own words. They're your excuse to escape. + +Go, then. Unworthy of women are men. We, who carry your children + + Next to our hearts, in these hearts loyalty we bear you, too. + +As for you men, when you've poured out your potency in our embraces + + And your desires dissipate, love with them passes away." + +These things expressed, and taking her child from its chair, my beloved + + Presses it close to her heart, kisses it, tears in her eyes. + +I'm now so very ashamed of myself for having permitted + + Gossip of neighbors to spoil picture so eloquent. + +For a short moment a fire may burn darkly while smoke swirls about it. + + Water dashed on the coals suddenly smothers their glow. + +Rapidly then renewed heat overcomes those lowering vapors, + + Sends up a flame that anew bright and more powerful gleams. + + +IX + +How very happy I am here in Rome when I think of the bad days + + Far back there in the north, wrapped in a grayish light. + +Over my head there the heavens weighed down so dismal and gloomy; + + Colorless, formless, that world round this exhausted man lay. + +Seeking myself in myself, an unsatisfied spirit, I brooded, + + Spying out pathways dark, lost in dreary reflection. + +Here in an æther more clear now a luster encircles my forehead. + + Phoebus the god evokes forms, clear are his colors by day. + +Bright with the stars comes the evening, ringing with songs that are tender, + + And the glow of the moon, brighter than northern sun. + +What blessedness mortals may know! Am I now dreaming? Or welcomes + + Jupiter, Father, as guest--me, to ambrosial halls? + +See, I lie here extending my arms toward your knees. I am praying: + + Hospitality's god, Jupiter Xenius! Hear: + +How I am come to this place I no longer can say--I was + + Seized up by Hebe. 'Twas she led to this sacred hill. + +Did you command her a hero to seek and deliver before you ? + + May be she erred. Then forgive. Let her mistake profit me! + +Does not Fortuna, your daughter, when strewing her glorious presents, + + After the manner of girls, yield to each passing whim? + +You, O hospitable god, will by no means now banish a stranger + + From your Olympian heights back to the base earth again. + +"Poet, come to your senses!"--Forgive me, Jupiter, is not + + Rome's Capitoline Hill second Olympus to you? + +Suffer me, Jupiter, here and let Hermes guide me at last then + + Past Cestius' Tomb gently to Orkus below. + + +X + +When you were small, you say, neither did others consider you f air, nor + + Even your mother find praise--and I believe it-- + +Till you grew bigger, developing quietly over the years. I + + Picture you to myself as an unusual child. + +Also the blossoms on grapevines are wanting in shape and in color, + + Although the fruit when it's ripe pleases both mankind and gods. + + +XI + +Kindling autumnal fire in a rustic, convivial fireplace + + (How the sticks crackle and spew flames and glittering sparks!) + +Strikes me especially pleasant this evening. Before all my tinder + + Dies away into coals, coals then to ashes decline, + +She will be back and new faggots as well as big logs will be blazing, + + Making a festival where lovers will warm up the night. + +Then in the morning, officious, she'll leave the bed of her lover, + + Rouse adroitly the flames out from their ashes anew. + +Cupid has lent to her above others the gift of cajoling + + Up from the ashes desire, just when slumber's begun. + + +XII + +All of those greats: Alexander, Caesar and Henry and Fredrick, + + Gladly would share with me half of their hard fought renown, + +Could I but grant them my bed for one single night, and its comfort, + + But the poor wretches are held stark in cold Orkian grip. + +Therefore, ye living, rejoice that love keeps you warm for a while yet, + + Until cold Lethe anoints, captures your foot in its flight. + + +XIII + +They are for you, O ye graces, just a few leaves by a poet + + Onto your pure altar laid, buds of the rose beside, + +Offered in confidence. Artists enjoy ateliers which are furnished + + So as to make for a space Pantheon-like in decor: + +Jupiter lowers that godly brow while his Juno looks upward; + + Phoebus takes forward strides, shaking his curly head; + +While phlegmatic Minerva peers down on us, frivolous Hermes + + Seems to be looking askance, roguish, though tender as well. + +But it's to Bacchus, the sensuous dreamer, Cythera sends glances + + Bathed in sweetest desire--even in marble they're damp. + +Thinking about his embrace and its pleasures, she seems to be asking + + Shouldn't our glorious son here at our side stand erect? + + +XIV + +Can't you hear voices, beloved, out on the Via Flamina? + + Reapers are now going home, back from harvesting grain. + +They had journeyed to Rome from afar, and here plaited for Ceres + + Wreaths which the Romans today scorn to make for themselves. + +Festivals no longer celebrate Ceres, the nourishing goddess + + Who replaced acorns of old, giving man golden wheat. + +Let us commemorate her then ourselves in festival private + + (Two constitute a whole tribe, when they are two in love). + +Have you by any chance heard how that mystical, strange celebration + + Followed victorious troops back from Eleusis to Rome? + +Greeks were the ones who began it, and only to Greeks they proclaimed it + + Even within Roman walls: "Come to the sanctified night." + +Those who were not of the cult kept their distance; neophytes trembled, + + Waiting in garments of white, symbol of all that is pure. + +Then the initiates must aimlessly wander about through the eerie + + Circles of figures as if pilgriming through their own dreams. + +Snakes on the ground were writhing about. Now virgins came bearing + + Caskets securely locked, richly wreathéd with grain. + +Surely the gestures of murmuring priests must contain some deep meaning-- + + Impatient acolytes wait, anxiously hoping for light. + +Not until after many a testing and trial did they discover + + What, within sacred ring, secretive image concealed. + +What was this mystery other than this: that Demeter, goddess, + + Once upon a time had to a hero been kind. + +It was to Jason, powerful king of the Cretans, she granted + + Of her immortal self hidden sweet parts to explore. + +That made the fortune of Crete! The marital bed of the goddess + + Soon grew pregnant with grain, heavy her bounteous fields. + +As for the rest of the world, it languished away, while Ceres, + + Derelict of her true task, dalliance offered in love. + +--Now the initiate youths, having followed this tale, all astonished, + + Turned and beckoned their loves--love, do you comprehend? + +See there the sacred shade beneath that bushy-boughed myrtle? + + Our satisfaction will there scarcely endanger a world. + + + XV + +Cupid is always a scoundrel, and if you believe him he'll cheat you. + + Here's what the hypocrite said: "Trust me just once more, this time. + +I have the best of intentions toward you who have now dedicated-- + + I recognize it with thanks--life and writings to me. + +Lo, I have followed you hither to Rome, and I'd like to do something + + Here in this far away land pleasing to such an old friend. + +Every traveller I've ever known has complained of poor treatment: + + He whom I recommend treatment delicious receives. + +You've now regarded with awe all the structures which lie here in ruins, + + Cultivated your eye, sensing each hallowéd space. + +How you've revered the formative will of those ancient artists! + + In their own ateliers often I''ve visited them. + +As for their works, why, I formed those myself--now this time I'm boasting + + Not. Oh come now, admit what I am saying is true. + +Where are your own creations, your service to me having slackened? + + Where is invention's glow now? Where is the color all gone? + +Friend, do you hope you can create again? --The school of the Ancients + + Yet remains open. Its gates, years have not closed them to you. + +I am eternally young, and as teacher I still love the young ones. + + Wisdom that comes with old age pleases me not. Listen here: + +Wasn't antiquity young when those fortunate Ancients were living? + + Happy then be your life, too: in it antiquity lives. + +Where will you find a fit theme for your song? --It is I must provide it. + + As for a style truly grand, love can alone give you that." + +All of these claims that sophist asserted. Could I contradict him? + + I am wont to obey, when my commander decrees. + +Treacherous now he is keeping his word: giving me themes for my poems + + While he is stealing my time, potency, presence of mind. + +Gazing into her eyes, holding hands, giving kisses, exchanging + + Syllables sweet and those words lovers alone understand, + +Murmuring our conversations we stutter in sweet oratory. + + Hymns of such sort pass away, wanting prosodical tact. + +Goddess of morning, Aurora, as friend of my muse I once knew you. + + Has the unprincipled god, Cupid, seduced you now too? + +So that these mornings you come as his sweetheart, awakening me at + + His festive altar again, where I must celebrate him? + +Here on my breast flows her hair, an abundance of curls, while her head rests, + + Pressing my arm as it's bent, so as to pillow her neck. + +What a delicious condition, if only these few tranquil moments + + Could in my memory fix firmly that image of joy + +When the night rocked us to sleep--but in slumber she's moving away now, + + From my side turns, as she goes leaving her hand in my hand. + +Love in our hearts makes us one, as the genuine need there stays constant; + + Only returning desire knows oscillation or change. + +Gently her hand presses mine, now she opens her eyes and is looking + + Into my own eyes. No--don't. Let my thoughts rest on your form! + +Please close your eyes. They're inebriation, confusion, they rob me + + All too soon of the joy quiet reflection affords. + +Grand are the forms of this body and nobly positioned each member. + + Had Ariadne lain thus, Theseus never had fled. + +Only a single kiss for these lips and then, O Theseus, leave her; + + Look at her eyes--she's awake! Now you're eternally bound. + + +XVI + +Boy, won't you light me a lamp. "But dear master, there's light in the sky yet. + + Don't waste your oil and the wick. Don't close the shutters so soon. + +Only the houses are blocking the sun there, it's not yet the mountains. + + Until the curfew shall ring, full half an hour must pass." + +Wretched young fellow, be gone and obey me! My loved one is coming. + + Lamplight, console me till then, harbinger warm of the night. + + +XVII + +Poets of old in chorus cried out against those two serpents, + + Making them horrible names, hated in all of the world: + +Python the one, the other the Hydra of Lerna. These monsters + + Both have now been destroyed, thanks to the deeds of the gods. + +Fire-breathing, venomous once, they no longer now depredate our + + Flocks and meadows and woods, fields of golden grain. + +How is it then that some spiteful god in his wrath has + + Raised from the poisonous slime offspring so monstrous again? + +There's an insidious viper creeps into the loveliest gardens, + + Lying in wait to attack all who seek pleasure therein. + +Noble Hesperian dragon, I call you courageous and forthright. + + Boldly defending your own beautiful apples of gold. + +As for this worm, why he is not guarding at all, for his presence + + Sullies both garden and fruit, till they deserve no defense. + +Secretly coiled beneath bushes, where he befouls the sweet wellsprings, + + Turning to poisonous drool Cupid's lifegiving dew. + +Happy Lucretius knew how in his day to forego love completely, + + Fearing not to enjoy pleasure in anyone's arms. + +Fortunate Ancient, Propertius, for you a slave fetched the girls down + + From the Aventine Hill, from Tarpeia's grove. + +Cynthia then, when driving you out of such unchaste embraces, + + Found you unfaithful, it's true, but she did find you whole. + +Who would today dare attempt to escape from fidelity's ennui? + + Love does not hold one back--only concern for one's health. + +Even the woman we love may afford us uncertain enjoyment; + + Nowhere can feminine lap safely encouch a man's head. + +Matrimonial bed's insecure and so's fornication; + + Husband, lover and wife pass to each other the hurt. + +Think of those ages of gold when Jupiter followed his urges, + + Chose Callisto one day, turned to Semel the next. + +It was important to him to find thresholds of temples so sacred + + Pure when, enamoured, he sought powerful entry to them. + +Can you imagine the ragings of Juno if in love's skirmish + + Poisonous weapons on her by her own spouse had been turned? + +But we neo-pagans may not after all be abandoned entirely: + + Yet there is speeding a god mercifully over the earth, + +Quick and assiduous. Everyone knows him and ought to adore him, + + Herald of Zeus: Hermes, the healing god. + +Although his father's temple be fallen, and though of its pillars + + Scarcely a pair yet records ancient glory adored, + +Nevertheless the son's place of worship still stands, and forever + + Will there the ardent requests alternate with the thanks. + +Only one favor I beg of you, Graces (I ask it in secret-- + + Fervent my prayer and deep, out of a passionate breast): + +My little garden, my sweet one, protect it and do not let any + + Evil come near it nor me. Cupid will hold out his hand: + +O, and entrusting myself to the rascal, I beg you please may I + + Do so in pleasure with no danger or worry or fear. + + +XVIII + +I cannot think I'd have gone with Julius Caesar to Britain; + + To the Popina right here, Florus would tug me with ease. + +Fogs of the dreary north remain a more baleful remembrance + + Than in the kitchens of Rome tribes of assiduous fleas. + +After today, I'll remember you even more kindly, tavernas, + + You osterias, as you are called, aptly by those here in Rome. + +That was the place I encountered my mistress today with the uncle + + Whom she so often deceives, so that she can have me. + +Here's where I sat at a table surrounded by good-natured Germans; + + Over on that side the girl, finding a seat for herself + +Next to her mother where, frequently shifting her bench, she arranged + + Nicely for me to perceive profile and curve of her neck; + +Speaks just a little more loudly than women in Rome are accustomed; + + Significant glance as she pours--misses the glass with the wine + +So that it spills on the table, and she with a delicate finger + + Over its surface can draw circles in damp arabesque: + +Her name entwining in mine, while my eyes most eagerly follow + + All that her fingertip writes. She is of course well aware + +That I am watching, so finally makes the V of the Roman + + Five, with a virgule before. Quickly, as soon as I've seen, + +She interlaces the circles, reducing them all to ornatest + + Patterns--but still the sweet IV stood as engraved in my eye. + +I sat there mutely and biting my passionate lips almost bloody + + Half from delight at the ruse, partly from stifled desire: + +Such a long time until dark, then another four hours of waiting. + + --Sun, who tarries on high, contemplating Rome: + +Greater never you've nor shall you in future see greater + + Than Rome, O sun, as your priest, Horace, enraptured foretold. + +Tarry no longer today. Go seek other realms beneath heaven. + + Sooner depart and leave Rome's seven famed hills to me. + +Please do the poet a favor and shorten the glorious hours + + Which the painter devours, eagerly filling his eyes. + +Cast now but one ardent glance, while descending, on noble façades and + + Cupolas, pillars, and--last--up at the obelisks. Then + +Hastily plunge to the ocean. Come view all the sooner tomorrow + + That which, for centuries now, gods have let you enjoy: + +Italy's shoreline so long overgrown with moist reeds, elevations + + Somberly rising to shades cast by the bushes and trees. + +First were but few simple dwellings here, suddenly sunlight discovered + + Nations enlivening hills teeming with fortunate thieves. + +Onto this spot they assembled such plunder, in your eye so splendid + + All earth's remaining orb scarcely was worthy of note. + +You watched a world being born here, watched the same world sink to ruin, + + And from those ruins yet arise world again greater, perhaps. + +O may I long by your light now behold this Rome. May the Parcæ + + Spin the fine thread of my life slowly, taking great care. + +O but come rushing the moment my love designated so sweetly. + + Wonderful! Sound already the chimes? --No, but I heard at least three. + +Thus, my dear muses, again you've beguiled the monotony for me. + + Of this long interval while I was apart from my love. + +All of you now, farewell! I'll be going now--don't be offended. + + For, though you're proud, you'll concede: Cupid in my heart comes first. + + +XIX + +Why did you fail to appear at the cot in the vineyard today, Love? + + As I had promised I would, long I awaited you there. + +"Dear, I had almost arrived when I saw, by good fortune, your uncle + + Standing right there by the vines, looking now this way, now that. + +Stealthily I slipped away." --Alas, what a misapprehension! + + You saw the scarecrow, that's all. Nothing else drove you away. + +Reeds and some discarded garments all hastily cobbled together-- + + I helped to make it myself: diligent in my own grief. + +"Well, now his wish is fulfilled. The old gardner's most dissolute crow has + + Left on this day unscathed nice little garden and niece." + + +XX + +While there is many an unpleasant sound, I hate to hear barking + + Worse than anything else. Bellowing dogs split my ears. + +Nevertheless I do like to hear, and take pleasure in listening + + To the loud howl of the dog raised from a pup next door. + +That is the dog that so bayed one time at my girl that he almost + + Gave our secret away (when she was visiting me). + +Now, when I hear the dog barking I think my beloved is coming-- + + Or I remember the time, when long awaited she came. + + +XXI + +I can tell not only about a discomfort far greater than others, + + But of a horror besides, thinking of which will arouse + +Every fiber in me to revulsion. My friends, I confess it: + + Great displeasure I take lying alone in my bed. + +But it's a horror to fear on the pathways of love you'll discover + + Snakes and their venom beneath roses of eager desire-- + +That at the moment supreme, when I'm yielding to pleasure so fully, + + Right at my head as it droops, hissing disease may approach. + +That's why Faustina as my companion in bed makes me happy: + + Loving she always remains faithful, as I am to her. + +Young men are aroused in their passions by obstacles and by excitement; + + I prefer to go slow, savoring pleasures secure. + +Is it not bliss to exchange tender kisses containing no dangers, + + Sucking into our lungs, carefree, our partner's own life? + +That is the way our long nights of enjoyment are passed. We listen, + + Breast against breast, to the storm, pouring down rain in the wind + +Morning begins to dawn, we expect from these hours approaching + + Blossoms that will adorn festive the coming new day. + +Quirites, permit me the joy, and may this, of all pleasures on earth the + + First and the last, be vouchsafed all of mankind by the god. + + +XXII + +Ah, to uphold one's respectable name is not easy. The Lady + + Fame has an ancient foe: Cupid, my master and lord. + +Oh, by the way, have you heard of the cause of their mutual hatred? + + It's an old story, I think--Let me just tell it again. + +Powerful ever the goddess, but nevertheless to her fellows + + Overbearing and rude, quite unendurable. She + +Had by the gods since time out of mind at their banquets been dreaded, + + Yelling with brassiest voice orders to great and to small. + +Once, in her arrogance even maintained that she had subjected + + To her own will, as her slave, Jove's most illustrious son. + +"One of these days, O father of deities," cried she in triumph, + + "I shall be bringing you my--Hercules, as if new born. + +Don't think that Hercules be still that boy whom Alcmene once bore you; + + His adulation of me makes him now god upon earth. + +When toward Olympus he gazes, I've no doubt you hope that he's looking + + Piously toward your knees. Hardly. He's looking for me. + +Worthiest man! O the vision of winning my favor makes easy + + Hitherto unexplored paths, under that powerful foot. + +I do my part, for I meet him halfway and proclaim his adventures + + Praising his name in advance, even before he's begun. + +One day you'll wed me to Hercules. Hero who Amazons conquered + + That day will overwhelm me. Happily I'll call him: spouse." + +All of the gods kept their counsel, and none would reply to the braggart, + + Lest in a pique she devise vengeance against one of them. + +Cupid, escaping attention, slipped off to enslave, however, her hero: + + Artlessly conquering by--force of a beautiful girl, + +Afterward decked out his couple in mute masquerade: lionskin + + Over her shoulders, the club leaned (by much toil) at her side; + +Wiry stiff hair of the hero larded with blossoms, a distaff + + Laid in his fist, to conform strength to the dalliance of love. + +Scene now completed and ready to tease, he goes scampering, shouting + + For all Olympus to hear: "Come, see these glorious deeds! + +Heaven and Earth and the Sun on his indefatigable journey + + Over that infinite path never did witness the like!" + +Everyone hastened, gulled by the dissolute boy, who feigning + + Earnest, had summoned them all (Fame by no means lagged behind). + +Which of the gods will now smile in sweet condescension on Cupid? + + --Juno! delighted, of course, seeing a man humbled so. + +Fame, on the other hand, stood there ashamed, embarrassed, despairing. + + First she just laughed, saying: "Gods, be not deceived. It's a masque. + +I know my hero too well to be fooled by disguises of actors." + + Soon, though, in pain she perceived: Hercules, none but he. + +(Vulcan had not been one thousandth so vexed to discover his playmate + + Under his meshes ensnared, caught with his own lusty friend, + +Lying just as the wiles of the net at the most crucial moment + + Deftly embraced their embrace, trapping their instant of joy. + +How those boys, Bacchus and Mercury, guffawed, and freely admitted: + + Sweet must be the repose, lying on bosom so fine + +Of this magnificent woman. They turned to Vulcan entreating: + + "Do not release them just yet. Let us inspect them once more." + +And the old cuckold was cuckold enough to comply with their wishes.) + + As for poor Fame, in all haste, burning with wrath she must flee. + +Since then no armistice has been proclaimed to the feuding between them. + + Let her but favor a man, hot in pursuit is the boy. + +He whom Fame honors most can least defend against Cupid, + + And her most dang'rous attacks strike the most morally proud. + +Whoever tries to escape him is dragged down from bad deeds to worse ones. + + Yes, he will offer you girls--if like a fool you despise + +These, only then do you feel from his bow the arrows most vicious: + + Heat of man's love for man, ardent desires toward beasts. + +For those ashamed of him Cupid reserves the bitterest passions, + + Mingling for hypocrites their pleasure in vice and remorse. + +But, at the same time, the goddess seeks him, she's watching and list'ning. + + Should find him with you, ill disposed will she be: + +Frighten you, frowning austerely, contemptuously, violently casting + + Into the worst of repute houses he's known to frequent. + +Ah, it's the same with me, too. I haven't escaped her, the goddess. + + Jealously she seeks me out, sweet secret love to expose. + +I will submit to the ancient law and in silence revere her, + + For, when great lords fall out, I like the Greeks must atone. + + +XXIII + +However comely be strength, or free and undaunted comportment, + + Secrecy is for a man most important of all. + +Mighty subduer of cities, Discretion, O princess of nations, + + Goddess whom I adore, safely you've led me thus far. + +Now, though, what fate shall befall me? My frivolous muse has now opened + + --Cupid, the scamp--opens lips hitherto sealed so well. + +Difficult is it, alas, to conceal the shame of a monarch; + + Hide it can neither his crown, nor a tight Phrygian cap: + +Midas has asses ears! the first servant discovers--O horror! + + Shame of this secret so weighs, Midas unburdens his heart. + +Into the earth for safekeeping the servant must bury the story, + + Easing in this way the king: earth must conceal the tale. + +Reeds in a trice are sprouting and rustling in murmuring breezes: + + "Midas, o Midas the King--bears the ears of an ass!" + +Mine is a secret more pleasant, but even more difficult keeping: + + Out of abundance of heart eagerly speaketh my mouth. + +None of my ladyfriends dare I confide in, for they would but chide me; + + Nor any gentleman friend, lest he be rival to me. + +Rapture proclaim to the grove, to the echoing cliffs perorate it? + + One can do that if one's young, or if one's lonely enough. + +I to hexameters tell, in pentameters I will confide it: + + During the day she was joy, happiness all the night long. + +Courted by so many suitors, avoided the snares that were set her + + Now by one bolder than I, now by another in guile, + +Cleverly, daintily, always slipped past them, and sure of the byways, + + Comes to her lover's embrace, where he so eagerly waits. + +Luna! Don't rise yet. She's coming, and must not be seen by the neighbor! + + Breezes, rustle the leaves: muffle the sound of her feet. + +And as for you, little poems, o grow and flower, your blossoms + + Cradling themselves in the air, tepid and soft with love's breath. + +Wafting, betray to Quirites, as Midas' reeds did with cheap gossip, + + One happy couple in love, and their sweet secret, at last. + + +XXIV + +I in the back of the garden, the last of the gods, in a corner, + + Ineptly formed, must I stand. Evil the inroads of time. + +Cucumber vines grow entwining about this primeval lingam, + + Cracking it almost in two under the weight of the fruit. + +Faggots are heaped all about me against the cold of the winter, + + Which I so hate for the crows settling then down on my head, + +Which they befoul very shamefully. Summer's no better: the servants + + Empty their bowels and show insolent, naked behinds. + +Filth, above and below! I was clearly in danger of turning + + Into filth myself, toadstool, rotten wood! + +Now, by your efforts, O noblest of artists, I shall recover + + With fellow gods my just place. And it's no more than my due. + +Jupiter's throne, so dishonestly won, it was I who secured it: + + Color and ivory, marble and bronze, not to mention the poems. + +Now, all intelligent men look upon me in kindness. They like to + + Form their own image of me, just as the poet has done. + +Nor do the girls take offense when they see me--by no means the matrons. + + None finds me ugly today, though I am monstrously strong. + +Half a foot long, as reward, your glorious rod (dear poet) + + Proudly shall strut from your loins, when but your dearest commands, + +Nor shall your member grow weary until you've enjoyed the full dozen + + Artful positions the great poet Philainis describes. + + + +About the Elegies + +Goethe cultivated a special, italianate hand for this portfolio of +twenty-four "elegies," so called because he was emulating the elegiasts of +Imperial Rome, Tibullus, Propertius, Catullus. The Elegies have never before +been published as here, together in the cyclical form of their original +conception. Experts even denied that the two priapeia (I & XXIV) were by +Goethe at all, although they are in the same hand as the rest. To be sure, +these two are not numbered, so that I was long undecided as to just what +their proper position might be. At one time I imagined they must belong at +the middle of the cycle where at the end of Elegy XIII Priapus' mother summons +her son. Obviously Goethe, just returned north from his two years in Italy +(1786-88), and alienated from prim, courtly friends (especially since he had +taken a girlfriend into his cottage), had no thought of publication when he +indited these remembrances of Ancient Rome. But he did show them to close +friends, one of whom was the wonderful dramatist Friedrich Schiller. In 1795, +Schiller undertook a new periodical, Die Horen. This thoughtful and +responsible man initiated the journal with an essay of his own, explaining +how forms of entertainment are actually at the same time our primary modes +of education. It makes for pretty difficult reading in our present, less +interested epoch. But he did break the essay up with diversions solicited +from the best minds of his era. For a discussion of all this, see + +Professor Worthy's Page + +For now, it is enough to say that among Schiller's examples for "aesthetic +education," as he called it, were these Elegies by his much admired friend, +Wolfgang Goethe. Editor and author made substantial changes for propriety's +sake--despite Goethe's having lashed out to the contrary in the first Elegy +(which he now suppressed, along with the final one). My attempt has been--for +the very first time by the way, in any language--to restore Goethe's cycle to +his early conception. Since I have been unwilling to intrude with learned +notes, I must apologize for Goethe's many classical allusions, which were as +familiar to his own readership as are, in our publications today, the dense +references to media celebrities. Modern editors of what they call the +"Roman Elegies" bring abundant annotation, and often detail Goethe's own +emendations. What I bring here is merely translated from his manuscript in +the Goethe-Schiller Archive in Weimar. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Erotica Romana, by Johann Wolfgang Goethe + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EROTICA ROMANA *** + +This file should be named 8erot10.txt or 8erot10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8erot11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8erot10a.txt + +Produced by Harry Haile and Mike Pullen + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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