Fulfillment

On the first morning in September, I wrote this: 

Finally, the time has come to share with you my favourite poem Septembermorgen by Eduard Mörike about my favourite season – Autumn. It is talking about on a September morning, where the woods and the fields are still dreaming, but soon you will see the Autumn – the golden world. And I, on a September morning, am anticipating the golden time of the year to arrive. 

September Morning 

And now, the golden time of the year has arrived! Just go to the next wood, or even on the street or on the road, you will be surrounded by gold. When the wind blow, you would showered by the golden confetti in thousands types of leaf shape. This is what I love about poetry, it gives me hope and encourage me to anticipate something great even though the situation at that moment could be very different from now. Mörike is able to see the golden wood, when the wood was still green. 

If you prefer red carpet, here is one.


What would I able to see through poem for example about music? Recently, I totally absorbed in a poem read by the pastor in church during Stunde der Kirchenmusik. It is a childlike beautiful story about a merman who sang wonderfully. 

This merman was sitting in the rainbow singing while playing his harp. The waterfall, the trees and the nightingale were listening to his music quietly. The world was in peacefully happiness. 

This happiness was disturbed by ignorant children. They devalue the merman and belittle his music by saying something rude like this : “What good can your singing do?” The merman was devastated by this and cried and made himself disappear into the water. 

As his music ceased, straight away, the waterfall, the trees and the nightingale panicked. The peaceful world turned into a chaotic world. The children realized they have done something terrible and begged the merman to sing again. 

The merman sing again, the peaceful world restored. His music is more powerful now and it sounds vigorously. He is singing about the ocean, the heaven and the earth. His voice touched human heart, and trembled the forest and make the sun floats high. He is still singing when the starry night fall.  

Through this poem, I can see after a long silent time, music will come back stronger as before and the world would be in order again. May be not today or tomorrow or this year or next year, but it will be back. 

 

The English translation of the poem please click here: Der Nöck (Eng)

Es tönt des Nöcken Harfenschall:
Da steht der wilde Wasserfall,
Umschwebt mit Schaum und Wogen
Den Nöck im Regenbogen;
Die Bäume neigen
Sich tief und schweigen,
Und atmend horcht die Nachtigall. –

“O Nöck, was hilft das Singen dein?
Du kannst ja doch nicht selig sein!
Wie kann dein Singen taugen?” –
Der Nöck erhebt die Augen,
Sieht an die Kleinen,
Beginnt zu weinen…
Und senkt sich in die Flut hinein.

Da rauscht und braust der Wasserfall,
Hoch fliegt hinweg die Nachtigall;
Die Bäume heben mächtig
Die Häupter grün und prächtig!
Oh weh, es haben
Die wilden Knaben
Den Nöck betrübt im Wasserfall!

“Komm wieder, Nöck, du singst so schön!
Wer singt, kann in den Himmel gehn!
Du wirst mit deinem Klingen
Zum Paradiese dringen!
Oh komm, es haben
Gescherzt die Knaben:
Komm wieder Nöck, und singe schön.”

Da tönt des Nöcken Harfenschall,
Und wieder steht der Wasserfall,
Umschwebt mit Schaum und Wogen
Den Nöck im Regenbogen,
Die Bäume neigen
Sich tief und schweigen,
Und atmend horcht die Nachtigall.

Es spielt der Nöck und singt mit Macht
Von Meer und Erd‘ und Himmelspracht!
Mit Singen kann er lachen
Und selig weinen machen! –
Der Wald erbebet,
Die Sonn‘ entschwebet…
Er singt bis in die Sternennacht.

Der Nöck 

August Kopisch