| Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916. | | | | Ballad of the Outer Life | | By Hugo von Hofmannsthal (1874–1929) |
| | | AND children with deep eyes grow up and stray | |
| All innocent—lo, they grow up and die, | |
| And every man is bent upon his way. | |
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| And bitter fruits will sweeten by and by, | |
| And, like dead birds, will fall into the night, | 5 |
| And then decay as on the ground they lie. | |
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| The wind blows evermore in wayward flight, | |
| And ever many words we say and hear, | |
| Feel weariness of limb or young delight. | |
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| And streets run through the grass, and far and near | 10 |
| Are gloomy pools and trees, and torches burn. | |
| Some places threaten, some are deathlike, sere … | |
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| Why are these things diverse—ah, can we learn? | |
| And are there many more than we can say? | |
| Why do we tremble, laugh and weep in turn? | 15 |
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| Of what avail is all, and why this play? | |
| For we are men, and lonely evermore, | |
| And wandering seek no goal upon the way. | |
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| What profits all this seeing while we roam? | |
| And yet, how much he says who utters “night”! | 20 |
| For from this word deep grief and meaning pour | |
| Like heavy honey from the honeycomb. | | | | |
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