Herbst/Autumn

Plötzlich (suddenly)—to use my son’s recent vocabulary word—it’s fall. Last week it was warm and the trees were green and the sun waited to go down. This week the fog has risen, and the evenings go dark sooner, and the cottonwoods behind our house are raining golden leaves. Walking to school through the nature park behind us, we see more gold from the zebra-colored birch barks, glinting among darker pines. The ground smells damp, the smell of leaves layering another year of wisdom on the ground. It’s the smell of the ancient secrets of trees, of archives and generations of knowledge. After a lifetime of schooling, fall is the true beginning of the year for me, when a year’s worth of effort finally produces acorns, the beginning of a new generation of trees. It’s the time of year I’ve always begun my stay in Germany. It means hikes to distant ruins, and the smell of medieval stone in cold churches, the golden light of an autumn sun through stained glass.

It reminds me of two lovely poems by Rainer Maria Rilke, Herbsttag and Herbst.

Herbsttag (see http://www.onlinekunst.de/rilke/herbsttag.html for the German, below for my translation. I'm just not sure if this one is still under copyright).

Autumn Day

Lord: It is time. The summer was great.
Lay your shadows on the sundial,
and let the wind loose on the fields.

Command the last fruits to ripen;
give them yet two more southern days,
hurry them to completion, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Who has no house now will build one no more.
Who is now alone will remain so long days.
He will keep watch, read, write long letters,
and will wander, restless, here and there
in the avenues, when the leaves drift.


And here is the other (see http://www.onlinekunst.de/rilke/rilke_herbst.html for original):

Autumn

The leaves fall, fall as from afar,
as if withered from the far gardens of heaven;
they fall with mixed gestures.

And in the night, the heavy earth falls
from all the stars, in loneliness.

We all fall. This hand here falls.
And look at others: it is in everything.

And yet there is One who holds all this falling
everlastingly gentle in his hands.


I love this last stanza. It’s as if to say that the whole Fall of Adam was not a random senseless act, unforeseen and unwanted by God, but rather, part of His understanding, part of His design, even. And that He is there to catch us in our own individual falls as well.


And finally, one of my all-time favorite old German songs, Abendlied, by Mattias Claudius from 1778, music by Johann Abraham Peter Schulz, 1790. Lovely music. Lovely text! I sing it to my youngest at night. See http://ingeb.org/Lieder/DerMondi.html for the tune.

Abendlied

1. Der Mond ist aufgegangen
Die gold'nen Sternlein prangen
Am Himmel hell und klar
Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget
Und aus den Wiesen steiget
Der weiße Nebel wunderbar

2. Wie ist die Welt so stille
Und in der Dämmerung Hülle
So traulich und so hold
Gleich einer stillen Kammer
Wo ihr des Tages Jammer
Verschlafen und vergessen sollt

3. Seht ihr den Mond dort stehen
Er ist nur halb zu sehen
Und ist doch rund und schön
So sind wohl manche Sachen
Die wir getrost verlachen
Weil unsere Augen sie nicht seh'n

4. Wir stolzen Menschenkinder
Sind eitel arme Sünder
Und wissen gar nicht viel;
Wir spinnen Luftgespinste
Und suchen viele Künste
Und kommen weiter von dem Ziel.

5. Gott. laß dein Heil uns schauen,
Auf nichts Vergänglichs trauen,
Nicht Eitelkeit uns freun!
Laß uns einfältig werden
Und vor dir hier auf Erden
Wie Kinder fromm und fröhlich sein!


Evening Song

1. The moon has risen,
The little golden stars twinkle
Clear and bright in heaven.
The wood stands dark, and sighs
And from the fields rises
The white, wonderful fog.

2. How still is the world,
And in the cover of twilight,
So faithful and so lovely!
Just like a still chamber
Where the sorrows of the day
Can be slept away and forgotten.

3. See the moon stand there.
Only half of it visible,
And yet it is still round and beautiful.
So are many things
That we laugh at so confidently
Because our eyes do not see them.

4. We proud human children
Are poor vain sinners,
And know very little.
We spin webs of air
And search for the artificial
And come only further from our goals.

5. God, let thine salvation watch over us,
Let us trust in nothing perishable,
Nor rejoice in vanity!
Let us be simple-minded
And before thee on the earth
Be happy and godly children.