Song of the Spirits upon the Waters

The soul of man

Is like the water:

From the sky it comes,

To the sky it goes

And down again

It must to the earth,

Changing ever.

In a limpid jet

It streams from the high

Steeps of the rockwall,

Sprays lovingly

In waves of cloud

Upon glossy stone;

And accepted lightly

Undulates in veils

Soft-murmuring

To the depths below.

Cliffs stand out

Against the crashing,

Foams it fiercely

Step by step

Down to the abyss.

In a level bed

It steals through the meadows

And in a glassy lake

All the constellations

Feast on their faces.

*

The wind to the wave

Is a sweet lover;

Wind stirs from the lakebed

Foaming surges.

Soul of mankind,

How like to the water!

Fate of mankind,

How like to the wind!

1779