Sunset

The glowing red sun descendsInto the wide, tremulousSilver-gray ocean.Ethereal, rosy tinted formsAre wreathed behind him, and opposite,Through the veil of autumnal, twilight clouds,Like a sad, deathly-pale countenance,Breaks the moon,And after her, like sparks of light,In the misty distance, shimmer the stars.

Once there shone forth in heaven,Nuptially united.Luna the goddess, and Sol the god.And around them gathered the stars,Those innocent little children.

But evil tongues whispered dissension,And in bitterness partedThe lofty, illustrious pair.

Now all day in lonely splendorThe sun-god fares overhead,Worshiped and magnified in song,For the excellence of his glory,By haughty prosperity--hardened men.But at nightIn heaven wandereth Luna,The poor mother,With her orphaned, starry children;And she shines with a quiet sadness,And loving maidens and gentle poetsDedicate to her their tears and their songs.

Poor weak Luna! Womanly-natured,Still doth she love her beautiful consort.Towards evening pale and trembling,She peers forth from light clouds,And sadly gazes after the departing one,And in her anguish fain would call to him, "Come!Come! our children are pining for thee!"But the scornful sun-god,At the mere sight of his spouse,Glows in doubly-dyed purple,With wrath and grief,And implacably he hastens downwardTo the cold waves of his widowed couch.

Thus did evil-whispering tonguesBring grief and ruinEven upon the immortal gods.And the poor gods in heaven abovePainfully wanderDisconsolate on their eternal path,And cannot die;And drag with themThe chain of their glittering misery.

But I, the son of man,The lowly-born, the death-crowned one,I murmur no more.