Authors: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
| | How strangely does the dawnlike, murky light |
| | seep through the trees and bushes. |
| | How it pries and even penetrates |
| | into ravines and gaping chasms. |
| 3920 | Here fumes arise, here vapors hover, |
| | a fire glows from mists below; |
| | now it flickers like a tender thread, |
| | now it gushes in a bursting spring. |
| | Here it winds a crooked path |
| | through the valley in a hundred veins; |
| | there it crowds into a corner, |
| | only sparkling now and then. |
| | Suddenly there is a geyser |
| | of sparks like incandescent grains of sand. |
| 3930 | And look! The mountain wall from top to bottom |
| | ignites and seems on fire. |
| | Has not Sir Mammon lighted splendidly |
| | the palace for this great occasion? |
| | You are lucky to have seen the spectacle; |
| | some boisterous guests are fast approaching. |
| | How the wind-hag races through the air! |
| | How she slaps my shoulders with her blast! |
| | You must grasp these ancient ribs of rock, |
| | or else she’ll hurl you down headlong. |
| 3940 | A mist is thickening the night. |
| | Hear how the timbers creak and moan; |
| | frightened owls are streaking through the trees. |
| | Hear through the palaces of evergreen |
| | the towering pillars crack and shatter, |
| | the squeal and crash of tumbling branches! |
| | The hollow thunder of the trunks! |
| | The groaning of the roots below! |
| | With a furious roar and rumble |
| | they fall into a tangled heap; |
| 3950 | the madly howling blasts careen |
| | through the wreckage-strewn ravine. |
| | Do you hear the voices high above? |
| | Far away and close at hand? |
| | The entire mountainside has come alive |
| | with frenzied chants of sorcery. |
WITCHES
(
in chorus
)
.
| | The witches ride to Blockberg’s 45 top. |
| | The stubble is yellow; green the crop. |
| | On top of the cackling horde |
| | Sits Urian 46 presiding as lord. |
| 3960 | Over rubble and stubble they stream in blustery weather, |
| | Witches and billy goats stinking and leaping together. |
| | Our ancient Baubo 48 rides alone |
| | with a mother sow beneath her buttocks. |
| | We like to cheer when cheers are due! |
| | Let Lady Baubo lead the crew. |
| | With mother on a strapping swine |
| | The other hags will stay in line. |
| | How did you fly? |
| | By way of Ilsenstein. 49 |
| | I peeked at the owl in her nest. |
| | Oh, how she stared at me! |
| 3970 | Oh, go to hell! |
| | Why must you gallop at such a pace? |
| | The pig has flailed my buttocks; |
| | just look at all my grievous sores. |
WITCHES
(
in chorus
)
.
| | The way is broad, the way is long, |
| | Then why this wild and crazy throng? |
| | The broom has scratched, the fork has poked, |
| | Mother bursts, the child is choked. |
WIZARDS
(
half-chorus
)
.
| | Like snails in their house we glide and we slither; |
| | The women are all in a dither. |
| 3980 | They race to the house of the Evil One |
| | To enjoy their advantage before they are done. |
| | We do not make astonished faces |
| | If the women lead by a thousand paces. |
| | Let them race and scramble without stop, |
| | We the men can make it in one hop. |
VOICE
(
from above
)
.
| | Come here, come up, leave Rocky Lake behind! |
VOICE
(
from below
)
.
| | We’d like to be where you are now; |
| | we are scrubbed and polished to the bone |
| | but forever parched and sterile. 50 |
| 3990 | The wind is still, the stars go by, |
| | The murky moon hides in the sky. |
| | But a roaring, magic choir |
| | Spews a million sparks of fire. |
VOICE
(
from below
)
.
| | Now wait! Please wait for me! |
VOICE
(
from above
)
.
| | Who clamors from the gorge below? |
VOICE
(
from below
)
.
| | Take me along! Take me with you! |
| | I’ve been scaling for three centuries |
| | and could never reach the summit, |
| | yet I’d like to be among my peers. |
| 4000 | The broom can fly, the stick’s for you, |
| | A pitchfork and a goat will do; |
| | Who cannot raise himself today |
| | Is ever lost and doomed to stay. |
HALF-WITCH
(
below
)
.
| | I stumble and straggle and cannot see |
| | how the others got ahead of me. |
| | Back home the children kept me busy; |
| | now the mountain makes me dizzy. |
| | The salve puts courage in a hag; |
| | For a sail we use a rag; |
| 4010 | A trough will make a splendid scow; |
| | You’ll never fly if grounded now. |
| | Approach the peak and fly around, |
| | Sweeping close along the ground! |
| | Take to the heath and fill the ditches |
| | With your cackling swarm of witches! |
| | ( They settle down .) |
| | They crowd and crush, they squeal and they clatter! |
| | They hiss and whirl, they pull and they chatter! |
| | They spew and sparkle, burn and stink; |
| | this is the proper sphere of witches! |
| 4020 | Keep close to me, or we’ll be separated. |
| | Where are you? |
FAUST
(
in the distance
)
.
| | Here! |
| | What! Carried out so far already? |
| | I must invoke my old prerogatives. |
| | Squire Voland 51 has arrived! Sweet rabble, let him through. |
| | Now, Doctor, seize my coat! We will escape |
| | in one leap to safer ground; |
| | this is too crazy even for the likes of me. |
| | Over there I see a very special glimmer, |
| | something draws me to that clump of bushes. |
| | Come, come, let us crawl in for now. |
| 4030 | You spirit of contradiction! Move along and I will follow. |
| | It seems to me we managed very cleverly so far: |
| | We travel to the Brocken on Walpurgis Night, |
| | to observe at will the magical proceedings. |
| | Just watch those varicolored flames below. |
| | A lively club appears to be in session; |
| | in smaller circles one is not alone. |
| | But I prefer that higher region |
| | where even now I see a smoky, churning glow, |
| | and crowds advancing to the Evil One; |
| 4040 | many riddles may be answered there. |
| | But other riddles will be knotted. |
| | Let the great world go to blazes |
| | while we breathe and eat in peace. |
| | It is an old transmitted custom |
| | that little worlds are spawned within the great. |
| | I see the younger witches go stark naked |
| | and older ones more shrewdly veiled. |
| | Be courteous now, if only for my sake; |
| | the cost is small, the fun is great. |
| 4050 | I hear the blaring of some instruments! |
| | Horrid twanging! I guess one finally gets used to it. |
| | Come along! We cannot change the matter. |
| | I will go and take you in with me |
| | and bind you to me once again. |
| | What say you, friend? The space is not so little. |
| | Just look! You scarcely see the end of it. |
| | One hundred fires burning in a row; |
| | they dance, they chat, they cook and drink and kiss. |
| | Can you tell me where one offers something better? |
| 4060 | Will you effect our introduction |
| | in a wizard’s or a devil’s role? |
| | Though as a rule I go incognito, |
| | one likes to show one’s medals on a gala day. |
| | A garter is too dull and undistinguished, |
| | but cloven hooves are greatly honored here. |
| | Watch the snail! It’s slowly crawling our way, |
| | and with its probing snout and feelers |
| | it has already sniffed me out. |
| | I could not hide here even if I tried my best. |
| 4070 | But come! We’ll move along the line of fires. |
| | I’ll do the wooing, and you can be the squire. |
| | ( Addressing some who are sitting around the dying embers .) |
| | Good sirs, why dawdle on the outer fringes? |
| | You should be sitting snugly in the middle, |
| | engulfed by youthful zest and clamor; |
| | at home you each have solitude enough. |