University of Virginia Library

TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN OF
RICHTER, (JEAN PAUL.)

BY MRS. F. M. BAKER.

Reflection of Mt. Vesuvius from the Sea.

“See how the flames rise from below, under
the stern; red streams roll heavily around the
mountain of the deep and consume the beautiful
garden. But safe we glide over the cooling
flames, and our countenances smile from the
burning wave.” Thus said the delighted navigator,
and then glanced fearfully towards the
thundering mountain. “But,” I said: behold,
thus presents the poet in the everlasting mirror,
the heavy calamities of the world, and the unfortunate
glance carelessly on, but the sorrow even
gladdens them.”

Beyond the sun, in the farthest blue, rest other
suns, their strange beams flying for thousands of
years upon the road to this small earth, have

come not yet near. O, thou softer, nearer God,
scarcely can'st injure the weak spirit of man, so
mildly thou beamest into his young eye. O, Sun
of Suns and Spirits.

In the day spoke the full Sunflower: Apollo
sends forth his rays and I spread myself out; he
travels round the earth and I follow after him.
In the night said the Violet: Lowly stand I and
concealed — and bloom in brief night: sometimes
Venus' mild sister glistens upon me, then I am
discovered and gathered and die in the bosom.

As the beautiful but pale and tender Flowers
of May fell off and perished, thus said the leaves:
“What infirmity and uselessness! scarcely born,
they sink in all their loveliness; but we, how
we stand firmly and outlast the summer heat,
always large, brilliant and strong, till we finally
reach a good age, when we produce and give the
earth the richest fruits, and under a cannonade of
storms remain with fine variegated colors at rest.”
But the early fallen Flowers said: “Willing
were we to fall; yet before had we produced the
fruit.” You silent unobserved men in your homes,
or in the counting room; you with little parade
and display of learning; you noble benefactors
unnamed in history; and you unknown mothers,
never disheartened, never affected by the glitter
in public greatness, in wealth, in that glory which
rises over victims slain in battle,—you are the
flowers!

Where think you is the likeness of that female
mind, which endures much but continually looks
up to God, which always appears joyous before
the world, while secretly she weeps and suffers,
and which the storms of life neither disturb nor
obscure?— Near the Heavens: where stands
the rainbow; the clouds and winds that fly near
him move him not, but he shines forth before his
sun and his drops become colors, and he lies upon
the Heavens like brilliant morning dew in a clear
day.

Who is greatest? the philosopher, who raises
himself above the tumults of time and only contemplates
without engaging in them, or the one,
that from the heights of repose can throw himself
amid the bustle and confusion of the world? It
is noble, when the eagle soars upward through
the tempest, to the screne sky; but it is more
noble when floating in the blue vault above the
storms, he precipitates himself through them,
upon the rocky eyrie, where lay his unfledged
and trembling brood.