Goethe Poems - Poems about Goethe

Gefunden (“Found”) by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Into the woodlands, alone, I went. Seeking nothing, my sole intent. But I saw a flower deep in the shade gleaming like starlight in a still glade. I reached down to pluck it when it shyly asked: “Why would you snap me so cruelly in half?” So I dug up the flower, by the roots and all, then planted...

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Prometheus by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch obscure Your heavens, Zeus, with a nebulous haze! and, like boys beheading thistles, decapitate oaks and alps. yet leave me the earth with its rude dwellings and my hut You didn’t build. also my hearth, whose cheerful glow You envy. i know nothing more pitiful under the sun than these vampiric...

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The Fisher by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe translation by Michael R. Burch The river swirled and rippled; nearby an angler lay, and watched his lure with a careless eye, like any other day. But as he watched in a strange half-dream, he saw the waters part, and from the river’s depths emerged a maiden, or a tart. A Lorelei, she sang to him her strange, bewitching song: “Which...

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“To the Moon” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe translation/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...

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Too much to know, I just don't know it As I fumble around, just a humble poet Frustrated as I watch unfurl a show I just don't know it, too much to know Answers are near, in the palm of my hand It's nobody's fault that I can't understand Incomprehensible nature can instill fear In the palm of my hand,...

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We suddenly strolled down Lakeshore drive facing Goethe street named after Wolfgang von Goethe famous German poet just at the crosswalk while waving to the hidden Walter Payton nooks wandering steel of recycled metal forming beautiful art found beneath the Gold coast and shorelines of ancient buildings surrounding the Drake hotel while rust erosion casted away sticking...

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These are modern English translations of the "Xenia" epigrams written in collaboration by the German poets Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller, plus an elegy Goethe wrote for Schiller... These are selected XENIA epigrams with all translations by Michael R. Burch... #2 - Verse versus Kiss She says an epigram’s too terse to reveal her tender heart in...

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I find myself agreeing a lot with Goethe lately… yes, I think it would be fair to say I spend as much time on top of the world… as I do floundering in the depths of despair. On top of the world at our granddaughter’s 16th birthday party on the beach with family and friends by her side… In the...

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Law student Johann Goethe much preferred poetry you see In German his verse he sang as a leading light of Sturm&Drang...

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ON LOOKING AT SCHILLER’S SKULL by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Here in this charnel-house full of bleaching bones, like yesteryear’s fading souvenirs, I see the skulls arranged in strange ordered rows. Who knows whose owners might have beheaded peers, packed tightly here despite once repellent hate? Here weaponless, they stand, in this gentled state. These arms and hands, they once...

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Are dreams made of wishful thinking; what we want to happen in life when not fulfilled hearts start breaking; We blame fates always full of strife. Unfulfilled wishes continue; We dream them, though very next day we just forget, what we've been through; Why we dream, can anyone say? ~X~X~X~...

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Sunlight streams through the tiny hole in the wall that holds my heart together; a crystalline point is trickling slow droplets of ice water the shape of tears. Slowly melting, I am pouring myself into my own empty cup....

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Do you know the land where the lemon-trees flower? There are folks whose bouquets seem to be vagrant; their aromas are devoid of willpower. “They need water,” says my friend who’s called Fragrant. Contained within their trunk itself a sweet smell, but in the growth cycle it bears exception; scents escape from the bloom before blossoms swell. Fragrant defines fruitless trees with...

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When the wind is just right and sky is clear of dark clouds I take sail. Skiff takes me to where the fish lie This early morning I can’t fail...

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A new path yet of a familiar kind - Like many other pathways in its wake, Dad, look for markers that fill up your mind - hints of how to return without mistake. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With care, watch out for snakes and noxious weeds while engaging this resourceful treasure. Mom, teach your child to know the plants and seeds, to show gentle respect for...

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