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SONG OF SPIRITS ON THE WATERS
(words by Johann Wolfgang Goethe)
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The mortal soul
Is like the water:
From heaven it comes,
To heaven it ascends,
And then again to earth
It must descend,
Ever changing.
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Its clear jet streams
Down from the
Lofty precipice
Then in comely waves of foam
It powders white
The smooth rock,
And lightly taken
Simmers in a haze,
Swishing softly
Down to the depths.
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Where the towering crags
Pierce thro' the flow
It froths in anger,
Falls by stages
To the chasm.
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Once in its shallow bed
It creeps through meadow vale
Into a smooth lake
Wherein all stars
Feast countenance.
Wind is of the wave.
A pleading sweetheart,
Wind churns the very depths
Of foaming waves.
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O mortal soul,
Thou art like water's image,
O human fate,
Thou resemblest the wind!
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