WILD SONGS
Karl Marx
Written in 1837
First published in the Athenaum.
Zeitschrift fur das gebildete Deutschland,
January 23, 1841
The poems were translated by Alex Miller in consultation with Diana Miller
and Victor Schnittke, and can be found in Marx and Engels, COLLECTED
WORKS, vol. 1, Karl Marx: 1835-43. New York: International Publishers,
1975.
This transcription is for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review.
I.
THE FIDDLER
The Fiddler saws the strings,
His light brown hair he tosses and flings.
He carries a sabre at his side,
He wears a pleated habit wide.
"Fiddler, why that frantic sound?
Why do you gaze so wildly round?
Why leaps your blood, like the surging sea?
What drives your bow so desperately?"
"Why do I fiddle? Or the wild waves roar?
That they might pound the rocky shore,
That eye be blinded, that bosom swell,
That Soul's cry carry down to Hell."
"Fiddler, with scorn you rend your heart.
A radiant God lent you your art,
To dazzle with waves of melody,
To soar to the star-dance in the sky."
"How so! I plunge, plunge wihout fail
My blood-black sabre into your soul.
That art God neither wants nor wists,
It leaps to the brain from Hell's black mists.
"Till heart's bewitched, till senses reel:
With Satan I have struck my deal.
He chalks the signs, beats time for me,
I play the death march fast and free.
"I must play dark, I must play light,
Till bowstrings break my heart outright."
The Fiddler saws the strings,
His light brown hair he tosses and flings.
He carries a sabre at his side,
He wears a pleated habit wide.
II
NOCTURNAL LOVE
Frantic, he holds her near,
Darkly looks in her eye.
"Pain so burns you, Dear,
...
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