Do you know?

Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blhn, Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glhn At first the large pigeon flock caught me, then the sky itself, small but many clouds wafting, and the silhouette, the palm trees centering Dolores Street, high against this ever more rose tinted sky, the sun must be near setting in the west. Invisible. To me. From my caf table, coffee freshly made, Id slept the afternoon, I dont know why. Kennst du das Haus? Auf Sulen ruht sein Dach. Es glnzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach, Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an: Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan? All light left the trees, then the highest building, Saint Matthews Lutheran Church at the far corner, the cross atop it the last Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan? That, that is what presses the erasing colors here, the darkness of the palms, the memory of the pigeon flock, a crow following, a humming traffic vaguely there, pedestrians, a beggar woman at the laundry next to the caf What have they done? wretched child, what have they done to you? stare, fix the last tinting cloud, the fading rose, the darkness of night shall eventually prevail, not the darkness of this image, this half memory. Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg? Refuse it. Finish the coffee, which tastes a richness found too in the evening sky. Das Maultier sucht im Nebel seinen Weg Refuse it. You have the depth of years knowing so much more than once

In Hhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut And you feel you can leave, put the coffee to your lips, drink the last of it, rise from your table, walk to the nearby trash container and throw the paper cup away you do that, you see the traffic lights change, the cars languid as the people passing are, the light clearly shading for the night to come. Es strzt der Fels und ber ihn die Flut! Kennst du ihn wohl? Dahin! Dahin Walk away. And you do. Past the paired furniture repair stores, their displays muted, orderly, the Victorian house built in 1874 across the street, a bed and breakfast, well maintained, as you are, the fog over the hills to the west, a slivered crescent moon to the south signals Dahin! Dahin No urgency, 17th Street so very familiar, this city block cut by Abbey Alley before arriving at Church Street. Cars must be passing by, light must be fading by degrees of intensity there, there! The marble figures stand, gaze at me, what have they done to the grid of the streets, the plan of the sky collecting toward the slivered moon a simplifying idea, a tempting peace a major light when the sun finally goes Do you know?

[original Goethe poem and an English translation]

Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blhn, Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glhn, Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht, Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht? Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin Mcht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn. Kennst du das Haus? Auf Sulen ruht sein Dach. Es glnzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach, Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an: Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan? Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin Mcht ich mit dir, o mein Beschtzer, ziehn. Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg? Das Maultier sucht im Nebel seinen Weg; In Hhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut; Es strzt der Fels und ber ihn die Flut! Kennst du ihn wohl? Dahin! dahin Geht unser Weg! O Vater, la uns ziehn! [English rendering] Do you know the land where the lemon trees bloom? Among dark leaves the golden oranges glow. A gentle breeze from blue skies drifts. The myrtle is still, and the laurel stands high. Do you know it well? There, there would I go with you, my beloved. Do you know the house? On pillars rests its roof. The great hall glistens, the room shines, and the marble statues stand and look at me, asking: "What have they done to you, wretched child?" Do you know it well? there, there Would I go with you, oh my guardian. Do you know the mountain and its path? The muletier searches in the clouds for his way; in the caves dwell the dragon of the old breed. The cliff falls, and over it the flood. Do you know it well? There, there leads our way; oh father, let us go! by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832) , no title, from Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre, Book III, Chapter 1