Excerpt from “To the Moon”
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
loose translations/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Scattered, pole to starry pole,
glide Cynthia's mild beams,
whispering to the receptive soul
whatever moonbeams mean.
Bathing valley, hill and dale
with her softening light,
loosening from earth’s frigid chains
my restless heart tonight!
Over the landscape, near and far,
broods darkly glowering night;
yet welcoming as Friendship’s eye,
she, soft, bequeaths her light.
Touched in turn by joy and pain,
my startled heart responds,
then floats, as Whimsy paints each scene,
to soar with her, beyond...
I mean Whimsy in the sense of both the Romantic Imagination and caprice. Here, I have the idea of Peter Pan flying off with Tinker Bell to Neverland.
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