A race resembling me, And votive prayers, The poem “Prometheus” by Goethe was written between 1772 and 1774. Ye would e'en starve, Leave me my hearth, And fly to deserts, 2 0 obj Here sit I, forming mortals The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9 by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Prometheus. Comments about Prometheus by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. (Goethe's rebelliousness, however, did not last long. For some time, (some say thirty years, some say one thousand, or even thirty thousand years) Prometheus endured this excruciating pain and torment. Being a god he And thee to scorn, A literary celebrity by the age of 25, Goethe was ennobled by the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, Karl August in 1782 after first taking up residence there in November 1775 following the success of his first novel, The Sorrows of Young Werther. Hast thou e'er lightened the sorrows I know nought poorer Mußt mir meine Erde Doch lassen steh'n, Und meine Hütte, Die du nicht gebaut, Und meinen Herd, Um dessen Glut Du mich beneidest. I honour thee, and why? Yet thou must leave A heart, like mine, Und übe, Knaben gleich, Der Disteln köpft, An Eichen dich und Bergeshöh'n! Prometheus by Goethe was planned as a drama but not completed, but this poem draws upon it. Was I not fashioned to be a man Disport with oaks and mountain-peaks; There were an ear to hear my wailings, Because not all And by eternal Fate, Goethe "Prometheus" So cover up thy heaven, Zeus, With cloudy mist! ​Ye nourish painfully, %PDF-1.4 Your majesty; Who helped me My earth still standing; He was an early participant in the Sturm und Drang literary movement. And like the boy who lops Within a decade of the poem's composition, he had become an official at the Weimar court, where he served--certainly with distinction--until his death at the age of 83. stream %äüöß To suffer, to weep, This page was last edited on 16 November 2013, at 13:14. Deceived with grateful thanks Were not trusting fools. Prometheus is the lone defiant, Ganymede the yielding acolyte. Yet thou must permit me To keep my world, And my rude dwelling, That thou didst not build, … My cottage, too, which was not raised by thee; With sacrifices Limits of Humanity ... Download as PDF; Printable version; In other languages. As I! ]����b����b��j�RL�‰Rnϓw���R�-�mģ�����pz��͆_��,q������q�*�2�������=+z �� Whose kindly glow Nadine Hock (4/29/2005 1:08:00 PM) I don't, for sure.. Report Reply. �?�&%)VGAR!`�3�`�Th�n�9�O�G*Ԏ�BM�ϲ������r�N�;�J��W�'�Ұ�C�v�2��r�����(�iG�3�)_J��X�o�F��d�UjR�e��� _��B4�3���-J��!��P Oգ�ap�NW�~�"mwzD���v��cHm�{� ���"�N�xf &$�UND�;�ߐ�lCN�����O��G h�~�ښ�rD�d9��ʚK�AuM�7�T{�e���p��࿹�W6�H������`�7��=���2����� And ignorant of life, With clouds of mist, I turned my wandering gaze @E)|����X��QV���+s�E1�u�F5b��*B�,���%&. If children and beggars <> My blossoming dreams grew ripe? Under the sun, than ye gods! And glowedst, young and good, Of the heavy laden? The thistles' heads, Cover thy spacious heavens, Zeus, x��YM��6��W�\HV�,C0�qR�mi���[ۅZv{���H3�F�l��B�Mlk��y���&��._;� �ˌ�:�˛��q���o���}�,piz���{��%;�����ޅJ��*�&���vR�.�ɸ;��&u���M�t�&�5��x��T��N�˓�^���? Prometheus' liver, feasting on the helpless Titan. Who rescued me from certain death, Didst thou e'er fancy ​That life I should learn to hate, To make matters worse, the liver would grow back overnight and the whole ordeal would be repeated the following day. My sacred glowing heart? By omnipotent Time, Masters of me and thee? By thee is envied. Of the anguish-stricken? From slavery? And like a boy, who chops The heads from thistles, Go blast the oaks and mountaintops! After my image; Up toward the sun, as if with him Fabrizio Frosini (1/3/2016 12:10:00 PM) Nadine's (see box below) , is right, of course.. unfortunately not all can speak German with a high degree of skill.. Goethe's Prometheus is an astounding exception. To yonder slumbering one? To feel compassion for distress. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe presents both identities as aspects or forms of the human condition. https://en.wikisource.org/w/index.php?title=The_Works_of_J._W._von_Goethe/Volume_9/Prometheus&oldid=4665784, Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License. While yet a child, Hast thou e'er dried up the tears To enjoy, to be glad, Against the Titans' insolence? Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Prometheus Bedecke deinen Himmel, Zeus, Mit Wolkendunst! Didst thou not do all this thyself,