Related:
Source: Selected Poems of Friedrich Hölderlin. Translated by Maxine Chernoff and Paul Hoover. 2008. Omnidawn Publishing: Richmond, California. Pg. 165.
Hope! Sweet industrious one
Who doesn't scorn the house of grief,
Serves happily, noble one, to form ties
Between mortals and the powers of heaven.
Where are you? I have lived little; but my evening
Already breathes cold. And silent as the shadows
I am already here; and, without a song,
My shivering heart lies quietly in my chest.
In the green valley, there, where the fresh spring
Rushes daily from the mountain, and the lovely
Meadow saffron blooms for me on a fall day,
There, in the quiet, I will search for you,
My dear, or when at midnight
Invisible lives stir in the forest,
And above me the ever-joyful
Flowering stars are shining,
Daughter of the Upper Air, you appear to me
Out of your father's gardens, and if you cannot
Draw near as a spirit of the earth, frighten, o
Frighten my heart with a different face.
