SONG FOR FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN
‘The lines of life are various;
they diverge and cease like footpaths
and the mountain’s utmost ends.’
(Extract from a Holderlin poem addressed to Zimmer the carpenter, in whose Tuebingen house Holderlin lived for the last thirty six years of his life).
‘When from the depths spring enters into life,
men marvel and new words aspire out of their intelligence;
joy returns and festively poetry and songs arise.’
(Written on Holderlin’s last birthday, 20th March 1843).
Suddenly, peacefully,
you’re slipping afloat,
your drifting past
in a poetry-boat.
Scaliger Rosa,
Scaliger Rosa.
Buonarotti,
Buonarotti.
Scardinelli,
Scardinelli,
joy returns
and songs arise.
Crafted by Zimmer,
a sculptor of Woods,
your coffin is filled
with magical words.
Scaliger Rosa,
Scaliger Rosa.
Buonarotti,
Buonarotti.
Scardinelli,
Scardinelli,
joy returns
and songs arise.
Keith Armstrong
Note: The chorus is based on pseudonyms used by Holderlin.
