VOICE FROM THE TOWER.

O let us both have pity on ourselves!

My love, remember, great as is this world,

Two of us only on this mighty earth,

Upon the seas of sand two drops of dew.

Scarce breathes a little wind, from the earthly vale

For aye we vanish—ah! together perish!

I came not here for this, to torture thee.

I would not on me take the holy vows,

Because I dared not pledge my heart to Heaven,

While yet in it an earthly lover reigned.

I in the cloister would remain, and humbly

Devote my days to service of the nuns.

But there without thee, everything around

Was all so new, so wild, so strange to me!

Remembering then that after many years,

Thou shouldst return again to Mary’s town

To seek for vengeance on the enemy,

The cause defending of a hapless folk,

I said unto myself, “Who waits long years

Shortens with thoughts; maybe he now returns,

Maybe is come. Is it not free to ask,

Though living I immure me in the grave,

That once more I may look upon thy face,

That I at least may perish near to thee?

And therefore to the hermit’s narrow house

Upon the road, upon the broken rock,

I will betake me, and enclose myself.

Some knight maybe, in passing by my hut,

May speak aloud by chance my loved one’s name;

Among the foreign helmets I may view

His crest; though changed the fashion of his arms,

Although a strange device adorn his shield,

Although his face be changed, even then my heart

Will recognise my lover from afar.

And when a heavy duty him compels

To shed the blood of all and to destroy,

And all shall curse him, one heart yet alone

Shall dare afar to bless him.” Here I chose

My habitation and my grave apart,

In silence, where the sacrilege of groans

The traveller dare not listen. Thou, I know,

Lovest to walk alone. Within myself

I thought, “Maybe at even he will come,

Having his comrades left behind, to hold

Converse with winds and billows of the lake;

And he will think of me and hear my voice.”

And Heaven did fulfil my innocent wish.

Thou earnest; thou didst understand my song.

I prayed in former times that dreams might bless

Me with thine image, though the form were mute:

To-day, what happiness! To-day, together,—

Together we may weep!

Konrad Wallenrod: An Historical Poem · 第 23 / 45 题