Lying In Grass Poem by Hermann Hesse

Lying In Grass

Rating: 3.4


Is this everything now, the quick delusions of flowers,
And the down colors of the bright summer meadow,
The soft blue spread of heaven, the bees' song,
Is this everything only a god's
Groaning dream,
The cry of unconscious powers for deliverance?
The distant line of the mountain,
That beautifully and courageously rests in the blue,
Is this too only a convulsion,
Only the wild strain of fermenting nature,
Only grief, only agony, only meaningless fumbling,
Never resting, never a blessed movement?
No! Leave me alone, you impure dream
Of the world in suffering!
The dance of tiny insects cradles you in an evening radiance,
The bird's cry cradles you,
A breath of wind cools my forehead
With consolation.
Leave me alone, you unendurably old human grief!
Let it all be pain.
Let it all be suffering, let it be wretched-
But not this one sweet hour in the summer,
And not the fragrance of the red clover,
And not the deep tender pleasure
In my soul.


Translated by James Wright


Submitted by Holt

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 06 June 2019

Let it all be suffering, let it be wretched- But not this one sweet hour in the summer, And not the fragrance of the red clover, And not the deep tender pleasure In my soul..the deep and tender pleasure of the soul. expressions.. tony

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Gajanan Mishra 05 September 2015

leave me, impure dream, good one..

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Hermann Hesse

Hermann Hesse

Calw, Württemberg
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