“Nietzsche” by Stefan George

Low yellow clouds and frosty storms are drifting
Across the hill, half harbingers of autumn,
Half early spring's. Was this the wall that circled
The Thunderer who was unmatched among
Surrounding thousands made of dust and smoke?
He launched his last, his duller flashes here
Upon a lifeless town and shallow foothills
And left a long night for the longest night.

Do not disturb the jog below. Can stabs
Destroy a squid, or shears uproot the weed!
The rule of fervent silence shall continue
Until the brutes who soil him with their praise
And fatten further on the reek of rotting
Which helped to strangle him, at last are stifled.
But you shall live throughout the ages
With crowned and bleeding brow like other leaders.

You, the most luckless, sought to set us free.
What destiny oppressed you that you never
Could feast your eyes upon the promised land,
Created gods, but only to dethrone them?
Dissatisfied with rest or what was done
You wrecked the treasure dearest to your spirit
So you might yearn for it with new desire
And cry aloud in aching loneliness.

He came too late who might have pleaded with you:
There is no way across the icy summits
And haunts of ghostly birds! Now you must learn
To stay within the circle drawn by love.
And when his voice, austere and full of torment,
Rings like a paean into azure night
Across the surf, we mourn: It should have sung,
This first new soul, it never should have spoken.

☉ in ♐; : ☽ in ♈ : Anno IVxix æræ novæ