JBW TO THOMAS CARLYLE; 7 August 1821; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18210807-JBW-TC-01; CL 1:375-376.
JBW TO THOMAS CARLYLE
Haddington / August 7, 1821
Dear Sir
Goethe will not come to me! I have tried again and again, but cannot master the spirit of the original in my translation. Here are my first lines:—
The waters rush'd, the waters swelled
A fisher sat thereby,
Dull gazing on the line he held,
He felt no grief nor joy.
A fisher sat thereby,
Dull gazing on the line he held,
He felt no grief nor joy.
The last, I am aware, gives very inadequately the exquisite “Kuhl bis ans Herg [Herz] hinan”; but I can do no better. However I may send my last four lines as well, and give you the rest when I see you.1
She spoke to him, she sang to him,
His love of earth was o'er;
With gentle force she drew him in,
He sank to rise no more.
His love of earth was o'er;
With gentle force she drew him in,
He sank to rise no more.
Now as I have kept my promise to give you my verse translations, and tame enough they are, in all conscience, to go by the carrier— I trust you fu[l]fil yours to let me have all your own poetry. All!
Yours truly /
Jane Baillie Welsh
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