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Poem by the German Master Poet.

The Artist’s Evening Song.

Goethe

The Artist’s Evening Song.

Oh, for some inner creative force

Through my mind, echoing!

That through my hands might course

A sap-filled blossoming.

I only shudder, I only stutter,

And yet can’t halt: at last,

I feel I know you, Nature,

And must hold you fast.

When I think how all these years

My powers have been growing,

And where barren heath appeared

Now streams of joy are flowing:

How I yearn for you, Nature, then,

And long for you, with faith and love!

For me you’ll be the leaping fountain,

A thousand springs will hurl above.

And every single power

In my mind you’ll heighten,

And this narrow being-here

To Eternity you’ll widen.

http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/German/Goethepoems.htm#_Toc74652135

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