the sorrows of young werther(少年维特的烦恼)-第12章
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as fully contented with me as with Charlotte； and I told them my
very best tale of the princess who was waited upon by dwarfs。
I improve myself by this exercise； and am quite surprised at the
impression my stories create。 If I sometimes invent an incident
which I forget upon the next narration； they remind one directly
that the story was different before； so that I now endeavour to
relate with exactness the same anecdote in the same monotonous
tone； which never changes。 I find by this； how much an author
injures his works by altering them； even though they be improved
in a poetical point of view。 The first impression is readily
received。 We are so constituted that we believe the most incredible
things； and； once they are engraved upon the memory； woe to him
who would endeavour to efface them。
AUGUST 18。
Must it ever be thus； that the source of our happiness must
also be the fountain of our misery？ The full and ardent sentiment
which animated my heart with the love of nature； overwhelming me
with a torrent of delight； and which brought all paradise before
me； has now become an insupportable torment； a demon which perpetually
pursues and harasses me。 When in bygone days I gazed from these
rocks upon yonder mountains across the river； and upon the green；
flowery valley before me； and saw alI nature budding and bursting
around； the hills clothed from foot to peak with tall； thick forest
trees； the valleys in all their varied windings； shaded with the
loveliest woods； and the soft river gliding along amongst the
lisping reeds； mirroring the beautiful clouds which the soft evening
breeze wafted across the sky； when I heard the groves about me
melodious with the music of birds； and saw the million swarms of
insects dancing in the last golden beams of the sun； whose setting
rays awoke the humming beetles from their grassy beds； whilst the
subdued tumult around directed my attention to the ground； and I
there observed the arid rock compelled to yield nutriment to the
dry moss； whilst the heath flourished upon the barren sands below
me； all this displayed to me the inner warmth which animates all
nature； and filled and glowed within my heart。 I felt myself
exalted by this overflowing fulness to the perception of the
Godhead； and the glorious forms of an infinite universe became
visible to my soul！ Stupendous mountains encompassed me； abysses
yawned at my feet； and cataracts fell headlong down before me；
impetuous rivers rolled through the plain； and rocks and mountains
resounded from afar。 In the depths of the earth I saw innumerable
powers in motion； and multiplying to infinity； whilst upon its
surface； and beneath the heavens； there teemed ten thousand varieties
of living creatures。 Everything around is alive with an infinite
number of forms； while mankind fly for security to their petty
houses； from the shelter of which they rule in their imaginations
over the wide…extended universe。 Poor fool！ in whose petty
estimation all things are little。 From the inaccessible mountains；
across the desert which no mortal foot has trod； far as the confines
of the unknown ocean； breathes the spirit of the eternal Creator；
and every atom to which he has given existence finds favour in his
sight。 Ah； how often at that time has the flight of a bird； soaring
above my head； inspired me with the desire of being transported
to the shores of the immeasurable waters； there to quaff the
pleasures of life from the foaming goblet of the Infinite； and to
partake； if but for a moment even； with the confined powers of my
soul； the beatitude of that Creator who accomplishes all things
in himself； and through himself！
My dear friend； the bare recollection of those hours still consoles
me。 Even this effort to recall those ineffable sensations； and
give them utterance； exalts my soul above itself； and makes me
doubly feel the intensity of my present anguish。
It is as if a curtain had been drawn from before my eyes； and；
instead of prospects of eternal life； the abyss of an ever open
grave yawned before me。 Can we say of anything that it exists
when all passes away； when time； with the speed of a storm； carries
all things onward； and our transitory existence； hurried along
by the torrent； is either swallowed up by the waves or dashed
against the rocks？ There is not a moment but preys upon you；
and upon all around you； not a moment in which you do not yourself
become a destroyer。 The most innocent walk deprives of life
thousands of poor insects： one step destroys the fabric of the
industrious ant； and converts a little world into chaos。 No： it
is not the great and rare calamities of the world； the floods which
sweep away whole villages； the earthquakes which swallow up our
towns； that affect me。 My heart is wasted by the thought of that
destructive power which lies concealed in every part of universal
nature。 Nature has formed nothing that does not consume itself；
and every object near it： so that； surrounded by earth and air；
and all the active powers； I wander on my way with aching heart；
and the universe is to me a fearful monster； for ever devouring
its own offspring。
AUGUST 21。
In vain do I stretch out my arms toward her when I awaken in the
morning from my weary slumbers。 In vain do I seek for her at night
in my bed； when some innocent dream has happily deceived me； and
placed her near me in the fields； when I have seized her hand and
covered it with countless kisses。 And when I feel for her in the
half confusion of sleep； with the happy sense that she is near；
tears flow from my oppressed heart； and； bereft of all comfort； I
weep over my future woes。
AUGUST 22。
What a misfortune； Wilhelm！ My active spirits have degenerated
into contented indolence。 I cannot be idle； and yet I am unable
to set to work。 I cannot think： I have no longer any feeling for
the beauties of nature； and books are distasteful to me。 Once we
give ourselves up； we are totally lost。 Many a time and oft I
wish I were a common labourer； that； awakening in the morning； I
might have but one prospect； one pursuit； one hope； for the day
which has dawned。 I often envy Albert when I see him buried in a
heap of papers and parchments； and I fancy I should be happy were
I in his place。 Often impressed with this feeling I have been on
the point of writing to you and to the minister； for the appointment
at the embassy； which you think I might obtain。 I believe I might
procure it。 The minister has long shown a regard for me； and has
frequently urged me to seek employment。 It is the business of an
hour only。 Now and then the fable of the horse recurs to me。
Weary of liberty； he suffered himself to be saddled and bridled；
and was ridden to death for his pains。 I know not what to determine
upon。 For is not this anxiety for change the consequence of that
restless spirit which would pursue me equally in every situation
of life？
AUGUST 28。
If my ills would admit of any cure； they would certainly be cured
here。 This is my birthday； and early in the morning I received a
packet from Albert。 Upon opening it； I found one of the pink
ribbons which Charlotte wore in her dress the first time I saw her；
and which I had several times asked her to give me。 With it were
two volumes in duodecimo of Wetstein's 〃Homer；〃 a book I had often
wished for； to save me the inconvenience of carrying the large
Ernestine edition with me upon my walks。 You see how they anticipate
my wishes； how well they understand all those little attentions
of friendship； so superior to the costly presents of the great；
which are humiliating。 I kissed the ribbon a thousand times； and
in every breath inhaled the remembrance of those happy and irrevocable
days which filled me with the keenest joy。 Such； Wilhelm； is our
fate。 I do not murmur at it： the flowers of life are but visionary。
How many pass away； and leave no trace behind how few yield any
fruit and the fruit itself； how rarely does it ripen！ And yet
there are flowers enough！ and is it not strange； my friend； that
we should suffer the little that does really ripen； to rot； decay；
and perish unenjoyed？
