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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.
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