What Springs To Mind?

[hyperborean]

"Faust: And yet in torpor there's no gain for me;
The thrill of awe is man's best quality.
Although the world may stifle every sense,
Enthralled, man deeply senses the Immense.

Mephistopheles: Descend, then! I might also tell you: Soar!
It's all the same. Escape from the Existent
To phantoms' unbound realms far distant!
Delight in what long since exists no more!
Like filmy clouds the phantoms glide along.
Brandish the key, hold off the shadowy throng.

Faust: Good! Gripping it, I feel new strength arise,
My breast expands. On, to the great emprise!

Mephistopheles: When you at last a glowing tripod see,
Then in the deepest of all realms you'll be.
You'll see the Mothers in the tripod's glow,
Some of them sitting, others stand and go,
As it may chance. Formation, transformation,
Eternal Mind's eternal re-creation.
Images of all creatures hover free,
They will not see you, only wraiths they see.
So, then, take courage, for the danger's great.
Go to that tripod, do not hesitate,
And touch it with the key!"

That last part gets me every time : )

Goethe reminds me of PRR and PRR remind me of Goethe.

Anybody else remind anybody else of anybody else?

Rather – What springs to mind when you listen to PRR?

[the dark fourth]

For me PRR is an exact twenty-first century version of Gerard de Nerval, a very obscure French Romantic writer from the early 1800s. Although, that is kinda cheating, cos someone on this forum introduced me to Nerval in the first place, and only because it's known that Jon gets a lot of inspiration from him anyway. www.amazon.co.uk/Aurelia-Other-Writings-Gerald-Nerval/dp/187897209X/ref=sr_1_7/026-7311524-9304423?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1193821436&sr=8-7 if you're interested. The other thing that makes me start singing PRR is the Aeneid, although that is probably better studied than read cold.

But Faust....yeah that is cool. I must read that too!

[hyperborean]

Night Song by J.W. von Goethe:

Pillowed so soft, dream on,
Half listen I implore,
To this my zithersong,
Sleep, could you ask for more?

To this my zithersong
Is heart's eternal core
Blessed by the starry throng;
Sleep, could you wish for more?

Blessed by the starry throng,
Out of this world I soar
Endless desires among;
Sleep, could you ask for more?

Endless desires among -
Yet you have shut your door,
Cool is the night and long;
Sleep, could you wish for more?

Cool, ah, the night and long,
Only in dreams, on your
Pillow, you hear my song,
Sleep, could you ask for more?

...ok, now with my interpretation... no, now with a Steinerian interpretation:

Pillowed so soft, dream on,
Half listen, I implore,
To this my zithersong,
Sleep, could you ask for more?

(the physical body has met it's match, soul exhaustion implores it to move on, so there goes the urging of the "zithersong" or the will of the next body, the ether body)

To this my zithersong
Is heart's eternal core
Blessed by the starry throng;
Sleep, could you wish for more?

(the ether body has been ignited by the eternal core of the "starry throng", an astral body which beckons one to another world)

Blessed by the starry throng,
Out of this world I soar
Endless desires among;
Sleep, could you ask for more?

(the astral body has taken flight, so like Lucifer, "endless desires" of an "I" are all that remain in the dream state)

Endless desires among -
Yet you have shut your door,
Cool is the night and long;
Sleep, could you wish for more?

(the I has won, an eye for I, a vision, from sea to see...)

Cool, ah, the night and long,
Only in dreams, on your
Pillow, you hear my song,
Sleep, could you ask for more?

(now one has gone all the way in, and is coming out, getting all the way in has in effect taken "him" all the way out, once submerged in sleep the body is definitely left on the surface, where the truth of the matter resides - I am the zeitgeist, a product of the times...)

So here's this poem I wrote a long time ago, that relates this all of this, a favorite of mine:

Apop by me:

We found land before our time
Watched it bloodshot up and crumble down
Subconsciously we find
We are predators of afterlives

My dear, next year
Stop by my gravestone
There are still stories you'll want to hear
So this stone is not so cold
There are still moments to our bones

We burned the bridges back to our homes
Scattered our saviors ashes over our own
Led by missile light, see
We are so focused, even
Ever after revelations, now

I can't wait
For tomorrow to date
To resurrect autonomy
The empire from beneath
An eye to sea
Here an eye for eternity

Now,
Heroes write of Greek in a language they're unable to speak
Hereon I call for a zeitgeist of our time
And in the A.M.
“Vox populi, vox naturae."