To The Moon
By J.W. Goethe
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Hushed, you flood with shining mist
Valley, bush and knoll,
And for once I feel you now
Liberate my soul.
Round the regions of my world
Goes your easy gaze
Kind as a companion’s eye
Sizing up my days.
Every echo hefts my heart,
-Tears and joy renewed-
As I balance bliss and pain
In your solitude.
River, river, flow and flow;
Pleasure’s passed for me:
Every kiss has vanished with
Laughs and loyalty.
All I once possessed and lost
Is such treasure still.
Men would rather bear this pain
Than forget that thrill.
River, rise, and never rest,
Rushing down the dale;
Wash and whisper me a tune
As I sing my tale
How in dark December you
Rage and overflow,
Or arise in gloried Spring
Bidding roses grow.
Lucky’s he who leaves the world
Free of hate, by choice,
Has a friend to laugh with and
Lovingly rejoice
In what men have never guessed,
Or forgotten quite,
Roaming mazes of the breast
Wayward in the night.