Get Your Premium Membership

Translation of Platen's Sonnet Number 58b

AC Benus translation of "Indeß ich hier im Grünen mich erfreue" by August von Platen While I delight myself here in the green wood, I call unto the barely sentient things: Come you birds, O come you butterflies, take wings And fear not, but believe in my faith most good. Think not that I lay bait for you, or ever could Set the treacherous snares that doom alone brings, For I spend my time far from where man's hate springs, Dreading them even more than you where I've stood. O count me not with those brute hordes and their lies, For I've never sought to harm or have one wilt And been shunned by them for what most men despise. So therefore, let us flee the paths they have built: Man seeks your ravagement and utter demise, While on me, they've heaped their unacknowledged guilt.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.