eye cry

[ he’s sad ]


Joy, beautiful sparkle of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium!
We enter, fire-drunk,
Heavenly one, your shrine.
Your magic again binds
What custom has firmly parted.
All men become brothers
Where your tender wing lingers.
Whoever has had the great fortune
To be a friend’s friend,
Whoever has won a devoted wife,
Join in our jubilation!
Indeed, whoever can call even one soul,
His own on this earth!
And whoever was never able to, must creep
Tearfully away from this band!
Indeed, whoever can call even one soul,
His own on this earth!
And whoever was never able to, must creep
Tearfully away from this band!
Joy, beautiful sparkle of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium!
We enter, fire-drunk,
Heavenly one, your shrine.
Your magic again binds
What custom has firmly parted.
All men become brothers
Where your tender wing lingers.
Your magic again binds
What custom has firmly parted.
All men become brothers
Where your tender wing lingers.


— Friedrich Schiller (1985)

Friedrich Schiller's signature

Arthur_B._Davies_-_Elysian_Fields_-_Google_Art_Project
“Elysian Fields”
by Arthur Bowen Davies (c. 1916)

p.s.

The word “Elysium” (Ἠλύσιον) derives from the Ancient Greek and means, ‘to be deeply stirred from joy.’ In Homer’s Odyssey, Elysium is described as a paradise:
“The Elysian plain…where life is easiest for men. No snow is there, nor heavy storm, nor ever rain, but ever does Ocean send up blasts of the shrill-blowing West Wind that they may give cooling to men.”

Author: Anna Bidoonism

You'll find lots of poems & prose on my blog as well as info. on literary analysis -- this is me; this is who I am.