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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
The Sun and the Brook
By Friedrich Rückert (1788–1866)
 
Translation of John Sullivan Dwight

      THE SUN he spoke
      To the Meadow-Brook,
And said, “I sorely blame you;
      Through every nook
      The wild-flower folk        5
You hunt, as naught could shame you.
      What but the light
      Makes them so bright,—
The light from me they borrow?
      Yet me you slight,        10
      To get a sight
At them, and I must sorrow!
      Ah! pity take
      On me, and make
Your smooth breast stiller, clearer;        15
      And as I wake
      In the blue sky-lake,
Be thou, O Brook, my mirror!”
 
      The Brook flowed on,
      And said anon:—        20
“Good Sun, it should not grieve you,
      That as I run
      I gaze upon
The motley flowers, and leave you.
      You are so great        25
      In your heavenly state,
And they so unpretending,
      On you they wait,
      And only get
The graces of your lending.        30
      But when the sea
      Receiveth me,
From them I must me sever:
      I then shall be
      A glass to thee,        35
Reflecting thee forever.”
 
 
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