Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GERMANY; A WINTER TALE: CAPUT 7, by HEINRICH HEINE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GERMANY; A WINTER TALE: CAPUT 7, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I homeward went, and as soundly I slept
Last Line: And I awoke from my slumbers.
Subject(s): Dreams; Germany; Hearts; Sleep; Nightmares; Germans


I HOMEWARD went, and as soundly I slept
As if by the angels tended;
In German beds one cosily rests,
For they are all featherbeds splendid.

How often I've yearn'd for the sweet repose
Of my own native country's pillows,
While I lay on hard mattresses, sleepless all night,
In my exile far over the billows!

One sleeps so well, and one dreams so well
In our featherbeds delicious;
The German spirit here feels itself free
From all earth's fetters pernicious.

It feels itself free, and upward soars
To the highest regions Elysian;
O German Spirit, how proud is the flight
Thou takest in nightly vision!

The gods turn pale, when thou drawest nigh;
When soaring tow'rds heaven's dominions,
Thou hast snuff'd out the light of many a star,
With the strokes of thine eager pinions.

The land belongs to the Russians and French,
In the British the ocean is vested,
But we in dream's airy regions possess
The mastery uncontested.

The art of ruling practise we here,
And here we are never dissever'd,
While other nations on earth's flat face
To develop themselves have endeavour'd. --

And as I slumber'd, methought in my dream
I was once more sauntering slowly
In the moonlight clear through the echoing streets
Of Cologne's ancient city so holy.

Behind me once again my black
And mask'd attendant speeded;
I felt so weary, my knees wellnigh broke,
Yet on, still on, we proceeded.

We onward went. My heart in my breast
Gaped open, and parted in sunder,
And the red drops glided out of the wound
In my heart, -- a sight of wonder.

I oftentimes dipp'd my finger therein,
And often the fancy came o'er me
To streak with the blood, as I onward pass'd,
Each doorpost lying before me.

And every time that I mark'd a house
In this very peculiar fashion,
A funeral bell was heard in a tone
Of mournful and soft compassion.

But now in the heavens the moon grew pale,
And darkness came over me thickly,
And over her face, like horses black,
The stormy clouds sped quickly.

And still behind me onward went
My dark companion ever,
His hidden axe grasping, -- on, still on,
And pausing and resting never.

We went and went, till we reach'd at length
The Cathedral precincts' centre;
The doors of the church wide open stood,
And straightway did we enter.

Within its capacious expanse but death
And night and silence hover'd,
While here and there a glimmering lamp
The darkness plainly discover'd.

I wander'd long the pillars among,
And heard the footsteps only
Of my attendant, who follow'd me still
E'en here in the silence lonely.

At length we came to a certain place,
With gold and jewels quite glorious,
And illumed by the tapers' sparkling light, --
'Twas the three kings' chapel notorious.

But the three holy kings, who were wont to lie
Quite still, and in order befitting --
O sight of wonder! -- were now upright
Upon their sarcophagi sitting.

Three skeletons, deck'd in fantastic array,
With crowns on their skulls dry and yellow,
And each one held in his bony hand
A sceptre, beside his fellow.

Like dancing puppets they moved about
Their bones which so long had perish'd;
They smelt of mould, and they also smelt
Of incense fragrant and cherish'd.

One 'mongst the number soon moved his mouth,
And utter'd a lengthy oration,
Explaining the reasons why he claim'd
My respectful salutation.

The first, because he was a corpse,
Because a monarch, the second;
Because a saint, the third, -- but the whole
Of little account I reckon'd.

I gave him an answer in laughing mood:
"In vain is all thy endeavour!
"I see that thou'rt still in ev'ry respect
"As strange and old-fashion'd as ever!

"Away! away! In the deep grave alone
"Your lengths ye ought to measure!
"Real life will shortly confiscate
"This chapel's mighty treasure.

"Hereafter the merry cavalry
"Shall make the Cathedral their dwelling;
"If ye will not go gently, then force shall be used.
"With clubs your exit compelling!"

When thus I had spoken, I turn'd me round,
And saw where was glimmering brightly
My silent attendant's terrible axe,
And he read my meaning rightly.

So he quickly approach'd, and with the axe
Remorselessly he shatter'd
Those skeletons poor of bigotry,
And into atoms scatter'd.

The echoing blows from the vaulted roof
Rang wildly, in countless numbers;
While streams of blood pour'd out from my breast,
And I awoke from my slumbers.





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