Poems of Friedrich Hölderlin


 

To the Fates

Grant me just one summer, powerful ones,
   And just one more autumn for ripe songs,
      That my heart, filled with that sweet
         Music, may more willingly die within me.

The soul, denied its divine right in life,
   Won’t find rest down in Hades either.
      But if what is holy to me, the poem
         That rests in my heart, succeeds—

Then welcome, silent world of shadows!
   I’ll be content, even if it's not my own lyre
      That leads me downwards. Once I’ll have
         Lived like the gods, and more isn’t necessary.

 

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