Ode to Joy - Schiller ~ Beethoven

 

 

 

 

Ode to Joy ("An die Freude")

 

by Friedrich Schiller (Published 1786)

 

Part of this poem was used as the choral finale

(4th movement) in Ludwig van Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

 

 

Ode to Joy (Schiller) - English translation, with notes

Joy, beautiful sparkle of god,

Daughter of Elysium,

We enter, fire-drunk,

Heavenly, your holy sanctuary.

Your magics bind again

What custom has strictly parted.

(1785 version: What custom's sword has parted.)

All men become brothers

(1785 version: Beggars become princes' brothers.)

Where your tender wing lingers.

Chorus

Be embraced, millions!

This kiss to the entire world!

Brothers, above the starry canopy

Must a loving Father reside.

Who has succeeded in the great attempt

To be a friend's friend;

Whoever has won a lovely woman

Add in his jubilation!

Yes, who calls even one soul

His own on the earth's sphere!

And whoever never could achieve this,

Let him steal away crying from this gathering!

Chorus

Those who occupy the great circle,

Pay homage to sympathy!

It leads to the stars

Where the unknown one reigns.

 

All creatures drink joy

At the breasts of nature,

All good, all evil

Follow her trail of roses.

Kisses she gave us, and the vine,

A friend, proven in death.

Pleasure was given to the worm,

And the cherub stands before God.

 

Chorus

Do you fall down, you millions?

Do you sense the creator, world?

Seek him above the starry canopy,

Above the stars he must live

Joy is the name of the strong spring

In eternal nature.

Joy, joy drives the wheels

In the great clock of worlds.

She lures flowers from the buds,

Suns out of the firmament,

She rolls spheres in the spaces

That the seer's telescope does not know.

 

Chorus

Happy, as his suns fly

Across Heaven's splendid map,

Run, brothers, along your path

Joyfully, as a hero to victory.

 

From the fiery mirror of truth

She smiles upon the researcher,

Towards virtue’s steep hill

She guides the endurer’s path.

Upon faith’s sunlit mountain

One sees her banners in the wind,

Through the opening of burst coffins

One sees them standing in the chorus of angels.

 

Chorus

Endure courageously, millions!

Endure for the better world!

There above the starry canopy

A great God will reward

Gods one cannot repay

Beautiful it is, to be like them.

Grief and poverty, acquaint yourselves

With the joyful ones rejoice.

Anger and revenge be forgotten,

Our deadly enemy be forgiven,

No tears shall he shed

No remorse shall gnaw at him

 

Chorus

Our debt registers be abolished

Reconcile the entire world!

Brothers, over the starry canopy

God judges, as we judged.

 

Joy bubbles in the cup,

In the grape’s golden blood

Cannibals drink gentleness

The fearful, courage --

Brothers, fly from your perches,

When the full cup is passed,

Let the foam spray to the heavens

This glass to the good spirit

 

Chorus

He whom the spirals of stars praise,

He whom the seraphim’s hymn glorifies,

This glass to the good spirit

Above the starry canopy

Courage firm in great suffering,

Help there, where innocence weeps,

Eternally sworn oaths,

Truth towards friend and foe,

Men's pride before kings’ thrones --

Brothers, even if it costs property and blood, --

The crowns to those who earn them,

Defeat to the lying brood!

 

Chorus

Close the holy circle tighter,

Swear by this golden vine:

Remain true to the vows,

Swear by the judge above the stars!

(The 1803 version ends here; the 1785 version continues with the following.)

Escape the tyrants’ chains,

Generosity also to the villain,

Hope upon the deathbeds,

Mercy from the high court!

The dead, too, shall live!

Brothers, drink and chime in,

All sinners shall be forgiven,

And hell shall be no more.

Chorus

A serene departing hour!

Sweet sleep in the shroud!

Brothers—a mild sentence

From the final judge!

(Other translations may differ)

Beethoven Choral (English translation)

(Baritone)

Oh, friends, not these tones!
Let us raise our voices in more
Pleasing and more joyful sounds!

(Baritone, Quarter, and Chorus)

Joy, beautiful spark of the gods,
Daughter of Elysium,
We enter fire imbibed,
Heavenly, thy sanctuary.

The magic reunites those
Whom stern custom has parted;
All men will become brothers
Under thy gentle wing.

May he who has had the fortune
To gain a true friend
And he who has won a noble wife
Join in our jubilation!

Yes, even if he calls but one soul
His own in all the world.
But he who has failed in this
Must steal away alone and in tears.

All the world's creatures
Draw joy from nature's breast;
Both the good and the evil
Follow her rose-strewn path.

She gave us kisses and wine
And a friend loyal unto death;
She gave lust for life to the lowliest,
And the Cherub stands before God.

(Tenor Solo and Chorus)

Joyously, as his suns speed
Through Heaven's glorious order,
Hasten, Brothers, on your way,
Exulting as a knight in victory.

(Chorus)

Joy, beautiful spark of the gods,
daughter of Elysium,
We enter fire imbibed,
Heavenly, thy sanctuary.

Be embraced, Millions!
This kiss for all the world!
Brothers!, above the starry canopy
A loving father must dwell.

Can you sense the Creator, world?
Seek him above the starry canopy.
Above the stars He must dwell.

Be embraced, Millions!
This kiss for all the world!
Brothers!, above the starry canopy
A loving father must dwell.

Can you sense the Creator, world?
Seek him above the starry canopy.
Above the stars He must dwell.

(The verses repeat here until . . .)

Joy, Daughter of Elysium,
Thy magic reunites those
Whom stern custom has parted;
All men will become brothers
Under thy gentle wing.

Be embraced, Millions!
This kiss for all the world!
Brothers!, above the starry canopy
A loving father must dwell.

Joy, beautiful spark of Gods!,
Daughter of Elysium,
Joy, beautiful spark of Gods!

(Other translations may differ)

Beethoven was completely deaf when he wrote the Ninth Symphony.

Hear the instrumental version here: https://youtu.be/Wod-MudLNPA 

or with German lyrics here: https://youtu.be/-kcOpyM9cBg

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Dawn Pisturino



     



Chelsea had a Little Lamb

Artwork by Ken Lamug

Poem by Dawn Pisturino

CHELSEA HAD A LITTLE LAMB

Chelsea had a little lamb,

Its fleece was black as soot. 

And everywhere that Chelsea went,

That lamb was underfoot.

It followed her to school until

The cooking class went wild

And served that lamb with mint and dill,

One chop for every child!

October 6, 2011

Published in the December 2011 issue of

Underneath the Juniper Tree.

Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Ashes

Graphic by Rebekah Joy Plett

Limerick by Dawn Pisturino

Ashes

A man with a hairy mustache,

Tried to smoke and was turned into ash.

His body was gone, but his ghost lingered on

To sweep himself up for the trash.

July 12, 2011

Published in the September 2011 issue of

Underneath the Juniper Tree.

Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

The Cannibal and his Dog

Graphics by Rebekah Joy Plett

Limerick by Dawn Pisturino

The Cannibal and his Dog

A cannibal walking his dog,

Got hungry and sat on a log.

"I'll start with the spleen.

This dog is too lean.

I shouldn't have taught him to jog!"

July 19, 2011

Published July 31, 2011 in the Underneath the Juniper Tree

Sunday Poetry category

Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

The Old Man from Brazil

    Graphic by Rebekah Plett

            

                Limerick by Dawn Pisturino          

    

The Old Man from Brazil

       There was an old man from Brazil

       Who ate 'til he made himself ill.

        "It's always a treat to eat mangled meat.

      I relish the taste of road kill!"

July 14, 2011

Published July 16, 2011 on the

Underneath the Juniper Tree website.

Published in the August 2011 issue of Underneath the Juniper Tree.

The Old Man from Brazil I

There was an old man from Brazil

Who ate 'til he made himself ill.

He gave up the ghost, said good-bye to his host,

And flew home to his house on the hill.

July 7, 2011

 Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

The Man in Galloway Bay

Graphic by Rebekah Plett

Limericks by Dawn Pisturino

The Man in Galloway Bay

A man lost in Galloway Bay,

Cried out in a very loud bray,

"Please come rescue me, hungry sharks can't agree,

Am I breakfast or dinner entree?"

July 11, 2011

Published on Underneath the Juniper Tree website, July 12, 2011

The Man in Galloway Bay II

A man lost in Galloway Bay,

Cried out in a very loud bray,

"I'm lost in the sea, someone please rescue me!

The fishermen think I'm filet!"

July 11, 2011

The Man in Galloway Bay I

A man lost in Galloway Bay,

Cried out in a very loud bray,

"I'm lost in the sea, someone please rescue me!

I've been swimming for more than a day!"

July 7, 2011

Legacy

by Dawn Pisturino



 

                                                                       

For My Grandmother

 

A handful of trinkets.

All that remains of a life which spanned for sixty years

Through childbirth labor and marital pain,

Poverty and hunger and religious faith.

Everything you touched and cherished and dreamed,

Lost forever to mildew and decay,

And the least which survives --

Just a tiny fragment of yesterday.

The old home place no longer stands:

Its groaning walls were bulldozed to the ground;

And the Dutiful Daughter who stayed by your side

Rots away in a back ward dungeon.

How you would writhe and torment in your grave,

Realizing the legacy you left behind

Is nothing more than ashes and dust;

As dead as yourself; and mourned as much.

 

October 4, 1987

 

Won Honorable Mention in World of Poetry's New Golden Poetry Contest. Published in the New American Poetry Anthology, 1988. Won Golden Poet Award for 1988 from World of Poetry.

 

Copyright 1987-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.



America's Poet -- Walt Whitman

 

 

Selections from Leaves of Grass

 

by Walt Whitman

 

I Hear America Singing

 

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,

Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,

The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,

The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,

The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing

       on the steamboat deck,

The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,

The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning,

       or at noon intermission or at sundown,

The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl

       sewing or washing,

Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,

The day what belongs to the day -- at night the party of young fellows,

       robust, friendly,

Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

1860/1867

 

For You, O Democracy

 

Come, I will make the continent indissoluble,

I will make the most splendid race the sun ever shone upon,

I will make divine magnetic lands,

       With the love of comrades,

         With the life-long love of comrades.

 

I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of

       America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over

       the prairies,

I will make inseparable cities with their arms about each other's necks,

       By the love of comrades,

         By the manly love of comrades,

For you these from me, O Democracy, to serve you ma femme!

For you, for you I am trilling these songs.

1860/1881

 

Long, Too Long America

 

Long, too long America,

Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,

But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling

       not,

And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en masse really are,

(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en masse really are?)

1865/1881

 

America

 

Centre of equal daughters, equal sons,

All, all alike endear'd, grown, ungrown, young or old,

Strong, ample, fair, enduring, capable, rich,

Perennial with the Earth, with Freedom, Law, and Love,

A grand, sane, towering, seated Mother,

Chair'd in the adamant of Time.

1888/1888-9

 

One Song, America, Before I Go

 

One song, America, before I go,

I'd sing, o'er all the rest, with trumpet sound,

For thee -- the Future.

 

I'd sow a seed for thee of endless Nationality;

I'd fashion thy Ensemble, including Body and Soul;

I'd show, away ahead, the real Union, and how it may be accomplish'd.

 

(The paths to the House I seek to make,

But leave to those to come, the House itself.)

 

Belief I sing -- and Preparation;

As Life and Nature are not great with reference to the Present only,

But greater still from what is to come,

Out of that formula for Thee I sing.

1872

 

BIO: Walt Whitman (1819-1892) worked as a printer, newspaper editor, and school teacher. He published the first edition of Leaves of Grass in 1855 at his own expense. During the Civil War, he nursed wounded and dying soldiers in military hospitals. He is best known for his observations about 19th century American life and the Civil War -- and his poems dedicated to President Abraham Lincoln. 

 





The Queen of Hearts

 

 

The Queen of Hearts made cherry tarts

On Cupid's Special Day.

The Knave of Hearts threw out those tarts

And stole the Queen away.



 

His bow was strong, his arrows sharp,

He drew with deadly force.

His missile pierced the tender heart,

Killing her, of course.

 

With hungry zeal, he yanked the heart



From Queenie's bloody chest

And feasted on her royal blood,

Rating it the best!

 

Dawn Pisturino

December 16, 2011

 

Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Poems by Joaquin Miller

The Voice of the Dove

Come, listen O love, to the voice of the dove,
Come, hearken and hear him say,
"There are many Tomorrows, my love, my love,
There is only one Today."

Dedicated to his daughter, Juanita, on her 10^th birthday.

 

MOUNT SHASTA

To lord all Godland! lift the brow

Familiar to the moon, to top

The universal world, to prop

The hollow heavens up, to vow

Stern constancy with stars, to keep

Eternal watch while eons sleep;

To tower proudly up and touch

God's purple garment-hems that sweep

The cold blue north! Oh, this were much!

Where storm-born shadows hide and hunt

I knew thee, in thy glorious youth,

And loved thy vast face, white as truth;

I stood where thunderbolts were wont

To smite thy Titan-fashioned front,

And heard dark mountains rock and roll;

I saw the lightning's gleaming rod

Reach forth and write on heaven's scroll

The awful autograph of God!

 

The Ship in the Desert

II

By Arizona's sea of sand

Some bearded miners, gray and old,

And resolute in search of gold,

Sat down to tap the savage land.

They tented in a canñon's mouth

That gaped against the warm wide south,

And underneath a wave-wash'd wall,

Where now nor rains nor winds may fall,

They delved the level salt-white sands

For gold, with bold and hornéd hands.

A miner stood beside his mine,

He pull'd his beard, then look'd away

Across the level sea of sand,

Beneath his broad and hairy hand,

A hand as hard as knots of pine.

"It looks so like a sea," said he.

He pull'd his beard, and he did say,

"It looks just like a dried-up sea."

Again he pull'd that beard of his,

But said no other thing than this.

A stalwart miner dealt a stroke,

And struck a buried beam of oak.

An old ship's beam the shaft appear'd,

With storm-worn faded figure-head.

The miner twisted, twirled his beard,

Lean'd on his pick-axe as he spoke:

"'Tis from some long-lost ship," he said,

"Some laden ship of Solomon

That sail'd these lonesome seas upon

In search of Ophir's mine, ah me!

That sail'd this dried-up desert sea." ...

Nay, nay, 'tis not a tale of gold,

But ghostly land storm-slain and old.

 

 

 

 

BIO: "Joaquin Miller" was the pseudonym for Cincinnatus Heine Miller, who was born September 8, 1837 and died February 17, 1913. He is celebrated as the "Poet of the Sierras." He moved to California during the Gold Rush Era and became a frontier man. His adventures in the West included Indian fighting, mining camp cook, lawyer, judge, newspaper writer and editor, Pony Express Rider, and horse thief. He was a Confederate sympathizer. In 1897, he traveled to Alaska as a newspaper correspondent. He had a lifelong reputation for dishonesty and womanizing. His wife, Theresa Dyer Miller, divorced him for neglect.

 

 

Silly Poems by Dawn Pisturino

My Grandmother's Nose

My grandmother's nose was too long for her face
So it lay ninety years on the floor.
It was longer by half than my poor Grandma Grace,
And it weighed not a feather-weight more.

She was scorned on the morn
Of the day that she was born,
But my grandmother took it in stride.
She colored that schnozzola
With a cherry red Crayola
And painted yellow polka dots inside!

April 12, 2012

Raggedy Ann Loses Heart

Raggedy Ann liked to dress up and play
By the fire on a cold winter day.
When flames burned her dress, she cried in distress
As her candy heart melted away.

November 1, 2011

The Postman and the Snail

A postman delivering mail
Was attacked by a slithery snail.
Quickly, he trod on that fierce gastropod,
Fighting him off tooth and nail!

July 19, 2011

The Sailor and the Whale (1)

A sailor who kidnapped a whale
Got the ransom but landed in jail.
"Am I dumb!" said the crumb,
As he sucked on his thumb.
"I shouldn't have sent him by mail!"

July 19, 2011

The Sailor and the Whale (2)

A sailor who kidnapped a whale
Got the ransom but landed in jail.
"Am I dumb!" said the crumb,
As he sucked on his thumb.
"There isn't enough to make bail!"

July 19, 2011

The Man from New York

There was a young man from New York
Who stuffed down a very large pork.
He doubled in size, for he wasn't too wise,
And popped off his head like a cork!

July 11, 2011

Dawn Pisturino
Copyright 2011-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.



Where is the Good Lord? (In French and English)

Où est le bon Dieu?

pour J.J.

Où est le bon Dieu

Quand j’ai besoin de lui?

     Il est ici, dans ma coeur,

     Mon esprit, et mon ậme.

Où est le bon Dieu

Quand je ne le vois pas?

     Il est là, avec le soleil,

     La lune, et les étoiles;

L’oiseau dans le ciel

Et le loup dans le forệt.

Il est avec mes amis, mes ennemies,

     Et moi-mệme;

Dans les montagnes et les vallées,

Partout et nulle part;

Avec le bien et le mal,

Le plus grand et le moindre;

     Il est tout et rien:

          Il soit.

9 Septembre 1985

Where is the Good Lord? 

For J.J.

Where is the good Lord

When I need Him?

     He is here, in my heart,

     My spirit, and my soul.

Where is the good Lord

When I cannot see Him?

     He is here, in the sun,

     The moon, and the stars;

The bird in the sky

And the wolf in the forest.

He is with my friends, my enemies,

     And myself.

In the mountains and the valleys,

Everywhere and nowhere;

With the good and the bad,

The greatest and the least;

     He is all and nothing:

          He is.

September 9, 1985

Poem and Photo by Dawn Pisturino

©1985-2017 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.