Bury the urn or scatter the ashes? – But you, you glorious ones! stands like a people of titans in the tame world
Prayer and Meditation
I come to you from the gardens, you sons of the mountain! Out of the gardens, nature lives patiently and domestically, nurturing and nurturing again with hard-working people. But you, you glorious ones! stands like a people of titans in the tame world and belongs only to you and to heaven that nourished and brought you up, and to earth that gave birth to you.
None of you have yet gone to the school of men. And you push yourselves happily and freely, out of the strong roots, up among each other and, like an eagle, seize the prey. With mighty arms the room, and against the clouds the sunny crown is directed towards you cheerfully and large. Each one of you is one world, like the stars of heaven you live, each one God, together in a free union.
If only I could endure slavery, I would never envy this forest and would happily snuggle up to social life. If only my heart, which does not give up love, was no longer tied to social life, how much I would like to live among you!
Bury the Urn or Scatter Ashes
Yes, it is you, blossoming tree, that is your sweet breath! It's me too, just a little paler, a little sadder too. Behind your blossoming branches the nightingales sounded, and the sweetheart was mine that lay close to my heart. And we both meant happy, and I mean it until now. That you bloomed so gloriously with joy over our union.
Faithlessly she left me; But you're blooming like you used to, although you can't deal with the stranger's agony of love. »The sun shines all too lovely, the gentle May wind blows, and the blooming and the bliss all too soon will be over!« Admonishingly, the teachings of your happy blossoms whisper to me; But the tear flows in disbelief, and my heart lost its rest.