Friedrich Schiller

(10 November 1759 – 9 May 1805 / Marbach, Württemberg)

Friedrich Schiller Poems

1. The Immutable 1/1/2004
2. The Infanticide 1/1/2004
3. The Imitator 1/1/2004
4. The Best State Constitution 1/1/2004
5. Pompeii And Herculaneum 1/1/2004
6. To Laura (Mystery Of Reminiscence) 1/1/2004
7. The Knights Of St. John 1/1/2004
8. To A World-Reformer 1/1/2004
9. The Meeting 1/1/2004
10. The Genius With The Inverted Torch 1/1/2004
11. The Alpine Hunter 1/1/2004
12. To Proselytizers 1/1/2004
13. The Playing Infant 1/1/2004
14. Group From Tartarus 1/1/2004
15. Punch Song (To Be Sung In The Northern Countries) 1/1/2004
16. Participation 1/1/2004
17. The Conflict 1/1/2004
18. The Agreement 1/1/2004
19. The Best State 1/1/2004
20. To Astronomers 1/1/2004
21. Written In A Young Lady's Album 1/1/2004
22. The Merchant 1/1/2004
23. The Poetry Of Life 1/1/2004
24. The Philosophical Egotist 1/1/2004
25. The Animating Principle 1/1/2004
26. The Fugitive 1/1/2004
27. The Moral Force 1/1/2004
28. The Secret 1/1/2004
29. The Learned Workman 1/1/2004
30. The Honorable 1/1/2004
31. Untitled 03 1/1/2004
32. The Sexes 1/1/2004
33. Thekla - A Spirit Voice 1/1/2004
34. Political Precept 1/1/2004
35. The Ring Of Polycrates - A Ballad 1/1/2004
36. Odysseus 1/1/2004
37. The Maiden From Afar 1/1/2004
38. Votive Tablets 4/7/2010
39. Nadowessian Death-Lament 1/1/2004
40. The Words Of Error 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Friedrich Schiller

Elysium

Past the despairing wail--
And the bright banquets of the Elysian vale
Melt every care away!
Delight, that breathes and moves forever,
Glides through sweet fields like some sweet river!
Elysian life survey!
There, fresh with youth, o'er jocund meads,
His merry west-winds blithely leads
The ever-blooming May!
Through gold-woven dreams goes the dance of the hours,
In space without bounds swell the soul and its powers,
And truth, with no veil, gives her face to the day.
And joy to-day and joy to-morrow,
But wafts the airy soul aloft;
The very name is...

Read the full of Elysium

Longing

Could I from this valley drear,
Where the mist hangs heavily,
Soar to some more blissful sphere,
Ah! how happy should I be!
Distant hills enchant my sight,
Ever young and ever fair;
To those hills I'd take my flight
Had I wings to scale the air.

[Hata Bildir]