Authors: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
| Poodle, be quiet! Stop racing back and forth! |
| Why must you sniff at the threshold? |
| Come now, lie down behind the stove, |
| I’ll give you my softest pillow. |
1190 | On the road out in the rolling meadows |
| your leaps and capers entertained us well; |
| you did enough to earn my hospitality; |
| lie still then and be my welcome guest. |
| Ah, when the friendly lamp is burning |
| and glows within our narrow cell, |
| the darkened self grows clear again, |
| the heart that knows itself will brighten. |
| The voice of reason can be heard, |
| and hope begins to bloom again; |
1200 | we crave to hold within our grasp |
| the streams of life and ah, its sources! |
| Poodle, stop growling! that brutish snarl |
| is not in tune with the sacred sound |
| that now enthralls my soul. |
| I am used to men who mock and scorn |
| the things beyond their comprehension, |
| who mutter at the Good and Beautiful |
| because it is often too much trouble. |
| Will the dog snarl his displeasure like men? |
1210 | But ah! though I am full of good intention, |
| contentment flows no longer from my breast. |
| Why must this stream run dry so soon |
| and I be parched and thirsty once again? |
| I’ve had more than my share of it, |
| but I am able to relieve this want: |
| one learns to prize the supernatural, |
| one yearns for highest Revelation, |
| which nowhere burns more nobly and more bright |
| than here in my New Testament. |
1220 | I feel impelled to read this basic text |
| and to transpose the hallowed words, |
| with feeling and integrity, |
| into my own beloved German. |
| ( He opens a volume and begins .) |
| It is written: “In the beginning was the Word!” 12 |
| Even now I balk. Can no one help? |
| I truly cannot rate the word so high. |
| I must translate it otherwise. |
| I believe the Spirit has inspired me |
| and I must write: “In the beginning there was Mind.” |
1230 | Think thoroughly on this first line, |
| hold back your pen from undue haste! |
| Is it mind that stirs and makes all things? |
| The text should state: “In the beginning there was Power!” |
| Yet while I am about to write this down, |
| something warns me I will not adhere to this. |
| The Spirit’s on my side! The answer is at hand: |
| I write, assured, “In the beginning was the Deed.” |
| If you wish to share this cell with me, |
| poodle, stop your yowling; |
1240 | bark no more. |
| A nuisance such as you |
| I cannot suffer in my presence. |
| One of us must leave this room; |
| I now reluctantly suspend |
| the law of hospitality. |
| The door is open, you are free to go. |
| But what is this? |
| Is this a natural occurrence? |
| Is it shadow or reality? |
1250 | How broad and long my poodle waxes! |
| He rises up with mighty strength; |
| this is no dog’s anatomy! |
| What a specter did I bring into my house! |
| Now he’s very like a river horse |
| with glowing eyes and vicious teeth. |
| Oh! I am sure of you! |
| For such a half-satanic brood |
| the key of Solomon will do. |
| Someone is caught within! |
1260 | Stay out, and no one follow! |
| Like the fox in a snare |
| The hell-lynx quakes. |
| But take good care! |
| Hover here, hover there, |
| Flit up and down, |
| And once he’s loose, |
| You may be of use, |
| Don’t leave him in the lurch. |
| Remember that to all of us |
1270 | He granted many favors. |
| First, to confront the brute |
| I must use the Spell of the Four. |
| Glow, Salamander |
| Undine, coil |
| Sylph, meander |
| Kobold, toil. 14 |
| Whoever is ignorant |
| of the four elements, |
| of the strength they wield |
1280 | and of their quality, |
| cannot master |
| the band of the spirits. |
| Vanish in flames, |
| Salamander! |
| In foam merge and flow, |
| Undine! |
| Light your stellar dome, |
| Sylph! |
| Bring comfort to the home, |
1290 | Incubus, Incubus! |
| Emerge and end it all. |
| None of the four |
| is lodged in the beast. |
| He lies quite still and grins at me. |
| I have not stung him yet. |
| I shall strike his core |
| with stronger conjurations. |
| Have you come to my cell |
| A refugee from Hell? |
1300 | Then mark you this sign 15 |
| To which all must incline, |
| All the black legions. |
| His fur is bristling now, and he swells and puffs! |
| Contemptible creature! |
| Face the Teacher! |
| The unconfined, |
| Never defined, |
| Heavenly presence |
| Pierced on the Cross. |
1310 | My spell holds him fast behind the stove; |
| now he swells to elephantine size |
| and fills the chamber with his bulk. |
| Now he wants to turn to vapor. |
| Do not rise up to the ceiling! |
| Lie at your master’s feet! |
| You see, my threats are not in vain, |
| I scorch you with the sacred fire! |
| Do not await |
| the threefold glowing light! 16 |
1320 | Do not await |
| the mightiest of my powers! |
| ( While the mist falls away , MEPHISTOPHELES steps from behind the stove. He is dressed as a traveling scholar .) |
| Why all this noise? What is the gentleman’s pleasure? |
| So this was the poodle’s core! |
| One of the traveling scholars. This casus makes me chuckle. |
| I salute the learned gentleman; |
| I’ve sweated mightily for you. |
| What is your name? |
| This seems a trifling question |
| for one so scornful of the word, |
| for one removed from every outward show |
1330 | who always reaches for the inmost core. |
| The essence of the like of you |
| is usually inherent in the name. |
| It appears in all-too-great transparency |
| in names like Lord of Flies, Destroyer, Liar. |
| All right, who are you then? |
| A portion of that power |
| which always works for Evil and effects the Good. |
| What is the meaning of this riddle? |
| I am the spirit that denies forever! |
| And rightly so! What has arisen from the void |
1340 | deserves to be annihilated. |
| It would be best if nothing ever would arise. |
| And thus what you call havoc, |
| deadly sin, or briefly stated: Evil, |
| that is my proper element. |
| You call yourself a part and yet you stand before me whole? |
| I state the modest truth to you. |
| While every member of your race—that little world of fools— |
| likes best of all to think himself complete— |
| I am a portion of that part which once was everything, |
1350 | a part of darkness which gave birth to Light, |
| that haughty Light which now disputes the rank |
| and ancient sway of Mother Night; |
| and though it tries its best, it won’t succeed |
| because it cleaves and sticks to bodies. |
| The bodies mill about, Light beautifies the bodies, |
| yet bodies have forever blocked its way— |
| and so I hope it won’t be long |
| before all bodies are annihilated. |
| Now I know your noble duties. |
1360 | You cannot wreck the larger entities, |
| and so you nibble away at the smaller things. |
| It isn’t much when all is said and done. |
| What stands opposed to Nothingness— |
| the bungling earth, that something more or less— |
| in spite of all I undertook |
| I could not get my hands on it. |
| After waves and quakes and fires, |
| the lands and seas are still intact, |
| and all that cursèd stuff, the brood of beasts and men, |
1370 | is too tenacious to be shaken. |
| Think of the multitudes I buried! |
| Yet there is always fresh new blood in circulation. |
| And so it goes; it drives me to distraction. |
| In air and earth and water, |
| through dryness, dampness, warmth, and cold, |
| a thousand seeds will push their way to life. |
| Had I neglected to reserve the flame for me, |
| I should now be quite without a specialty. |