The Blue Flower [2]
as he floated onward, lost in delight, yet keenly
sensitive to every impression. Swiftly the current bore him
out of the pool, into a hollow in the cliff. Here a dimness
of slumber shadowed his eyes, while he felt the pressure of
the loveliest dreams.
When he awoke again, he was aware of a new fulness of light,
purer and steadier than the first radiance. He found himself
lying on the green turf, in the open air, beside a little
fountain, which sparkled up and melted away in silver spray.
Dark-blue were the rocks that rose at a little distance, veined
with white as if strange words were written upon them. Dark-blue
was the sky, and cloudless.
All passion had dissolved away from him; every sound was
music; every breath was peace; the rocks were like sentinels
protecting him; the sky was like a cup of blessing full of
tranquil light.
But what charmed him most, and drew him with resistless
power, was a tall, clear-blue flower, growing beside the
spring, and almost touching him with its broad, glistening
leaves. Round about were many other flowers, of all hues.
Their odours mingled in a perfect chord of fragrance. He saw
nothing but the Blue Flower.
Long and tenderly he gazed at it, with unspeakable love.
At last he felt that he must go a little nearer to it, when
suddenly it began to move and change. The leaves glistened
more brightly, and drew themselves up closely around the
swiftly growing stalk. The flower bent itself toward him, and
the petals showed a blue, spreading necklace of sapphires, out of
which the lovely face of a girl smiled softly into his eyes.
His sweet astonishment grew with the wondrous transformation.
All at once he heard his mother's voice calling him, and
awoke in his parents' room, already flooded with the gold of
the morning sun.
From the German of Novalis.
THE SOURCE
I
In the middle of the land that is called by its inhabitants
Koorma, and by strangers the Land of the Half-forgotten, I was
toiling all day long through heavy sand and grass as hard as
wire. Suddenly, toward evening, I came upon a place where a
gate opened in the wall of mountains, and the plain ran in
through the gate, making a little bay of level country among
the hills.
Now this bay was not brown and hard and dry, like the
mountains above me, neither was it covered with tawny billows
of sand like the desert along the edge of which I had wearily
coasted. But the surface of it was smooth and green; and as
the winds of twilight breathed across it they were followed by
soft waves of verdure, with silvery turnings of the under
sides of many leaves, like ripples on a quiet harbour. There
were fields of corn, filled with silken rustling, and
vineyards with long rows of trimmed maple-trees standing
each one like an emerald goblet wreathed with vines, and
flower-gardens as bright as if the earth had been embroidered
with threads of blue and scarlet and gold, and olive-orchards
frosted over with delicate and fragrant blossoms. Red-roofed
cottages were scattered everywhere through the sea of
greenery, and in the centre, like a white ship surrounded by
a flock of little boats, rested a small, fair, shining city.
I wondered greatly how this beauty had come into being on
the border of the desert. Passing through the fields and
gardens and orchards, I found that they were all encircled and
lined with channels full of running water. I followed up one
of the smaller channels until it came to a larger stream, and
as I walked on beside it, still going upward, it guided me
into the midst of the city, where I saw a sweet, merry river
flowing through the main street, with abundance of water and
a very pleasant sound.
There were houses and shops and lofty palaces and all that
makes a city, but the life and joy of all, and the one thing
that I remember best, was the river. For in the open square at
the edge of the city there were marble pools where the children
might bathe and play; at the corners of the streets and on the
sides of the houses
sensitive to every impression. Swiftly the current bore him
out of the pool, into a hollow in the cliff. Here a dimness
of slumber shadowed his eyes, while he felt the pressure of
the loveliest dreams.
When he awoke again, he was aware of a new fulness of light,
purer and steadier than the first radiance. He found himself
lying on the green turf, in the open air, beside a little
fountain, which sparkled up and melted away in silver spray.
Dark-blue were the rocks that rose at a little distance, veined
with white as if strange words were written upon them. Dark-blue
was the sky, and cloudless.
All passion had dissolved away from him; every sound was
music; every breath was peace; the rocks were like sentinels
protecting him; the sky was like a cup of blessing full of
tranquil light.
But what charmed him most, and drew him with resistless
power, was a tall, clear-blue flower, growing beside the
spring, and almost touching him with its broad, glistening
leaves. Round about were many other flowers, of all hues.
Their odours mingled in a perfect chord of fragrance. He saw
nothing but the Blue Flower.
Long and tenderly he gazed at it, with unspeakable love.
At last he felt that he must go a little nearer to it, when
suddenly it began to move and change. The leaves glistened
more brightly, and drew themselves up closely around the
swiftly growing stalk. The flower bent itself toward him, and
the petals showed a blue, spreading necklace of sapphires, out of
which the lovely face of a girl smiled softly into his eyes.
His sweet astonishment grew with the wondrous transformation.
All at once he heard his mother's voice calling him, and
awoke in his parents' room, already flooded with the gold of
the morning sun.
From the German of Novalis.
THE SOURCE
I
In the middle of the land that is called by its inhabitants
Koorma, and by strangers the Land of the Half-forgotten, I was
toiling all day long through heavy sand and grass as hard as
wire. Suddenly, toward evening, I came upon a place where a
gate opened in the wall of mountains, and the plain ran in
through the gate, making a little bay of level country among
the hills.
Now this bay was not brown and hard and dry, like the
mountains above me, neither was it covered with tawny billows
of sand like the desert along the edge of which I had wearily
coasted. But the surface of it was smooth and green; and as
the winds of twilight breathed across it they were followed by
soft waves of verdure, with silvery turnings of the under
sides of many leaves, like ripples on a quiet harbour. There
were fields of corn, filled with silken rustling, and
vineyards with long rows of trimmed maple-trees standing
each one like an emerald goblet wreathed with vines, and
flower-gardens as bright as if the earth had been embroidered
with threads of blue and scarlet and gold, and olive-orchards
frosted over with delicate and fragrant blossoms. Red-roofed
cottages were scattered everywhere through the sea of
greenery, and in the centre, like a white ship surrounded by
a flock of little boats, rested a small, fair, shining city.
I wondered greatly how this beauty had come into being on
the border of the desert. Passing through the fields and
gardens and orchards, I found that they were all encircled and
lined with channels full of running water. I followed up one
of the smaller channels until it came to a larger stream, and
as I walked on beside it, still going upward, it guided me
into the midst of the city, where I saw a sweet, merry river
flowing through the main street, with abundance of water and
a very pleasant sound.
There were houses and shops and lofty palaces and all that
makes a city, but the life and joy of all, and the one thing
that I remember best, was the river. For in the open square at
the edge of the city there were marble pools where the children
might bathe and play; at the corners of the streets and on the
sides of the houses