第38章
作者:歌德(J.W. von Goethe)    更新:2021-11-25 10:33
  Why should
  I be ashamed of shrinking at that fearful moment, when my whole being
  will tremble between existence and annihilation , when a remembrance
  of the past , like a flash of lightning, will illuminate the dark gulf
  of futurity , when everything shall dissolve around me , and the whole
  world vanish away ? Is not this the voice of a creature oppressed beyond
  all resource, self-deficient , about to plunge into inevitable destruction,
  and groaning deeply at its inadequate strength, "My God! my God ! why
  hast thou forsaken me ?" And should I feel ashamed to utter the same
  expression? Should I not shudder at a prospect which had its fears ,
  even for him who folds up the heavens like a garment?
  NOVEMBER 21. She does not feel, she does not know, that she is preparing
  a poison which will destroy us both ; and I drink deeply of the draught
  which is to prove my destruction. What mean those looks of kindness with
  which she often —— often? no , not often, but sometimes, regards
  me, that complacency with which she hears the involuntary sentiments
  which frequently escape me, and the tender pity for my sufferings which
  appears in her countenance?
  Yesterday , when I took leave she seized me by the hand, and said,
  "Adieu, dear Werther." Dear Werther! It was the first time she ever
  called me dear: the sound sunk deep into my heart. I have repeated it
  a hundred times ; and last night , on going to bed, and talking to
  myself of various things, I suddenly said, "Good night, dear Werther
  !" and then could not but laugh at myself.
  NOVEMBER 22. I cannot pray, "Leave her to me !" and yet she often
  seems to belong to me. I cannot pray, "Give her to me!" for she is another's.
  In this way I affect mirth over my troubles ; and, if I had time, I
  could compose a whole litany of antitheses.
  NOVEMBER 24. She is sensible of my sufferings. This morning her look
  pierced my very soul. I found her alone , and she was silent : she steadfastly
  surveyed me. I no longer saw in her face the charms of beauty or the fire
  of genius : these had disappeared. But I was affected by an expression
  much more touching, a look of the deepest sympathy and of the softest
  pity. Why was I afraid to throw myself at her feet? Why did I not dare
  to take her in my arms, and answer her by a thousand kisses? She had
  recourse to her piano for relief, and in a low and sweet voice accompanied
  the music with delicious sounds. Her lips never appeared so lovely: they
  seemed but just to open , that they might imbibe the sweet tones which
  issued from the instrument, and return the heavenly vibration from her
  lovely mouth. Oh! who can express my sensations? I was quite overcome,
  and , bending down , pronounced this vow: "Beautiful lips, which the
  angels guard, never will I seek to profane your purity with a kiss."
  And yet , my friend, oh , I wish —— but my heart is darkened by doubt
  and indecision—— could I but taste felicity , and then die to expiate
  the sin ! What sin ?
  NOVEMBER 26. Oftentimes I say to myself , "Thou alone art wretched
  : all other mortals are happy, none are distressed like thee!" Then
  I read a passage in an ancient poet , and I seem to understand my own
  heart. I have so much to endure ! Have men before me ever been so wretched?
  NOVEMBER 30. I shall never be myself again! Wherever I go, some
  fatality occurs to distract me. Even to-day alas—— for our destiny!
  alas for human nature !
  About dinner-time I went to walk by the river-side, for I had no
  appetite. Everything around seemed gloomy : a cold and damp easterly
  wind blew from the mountains, and black, heavy clouds spread over the
  plain. I observed at a distance a man in a tattered coat: he was wandering
  among the rocks , and seemed to be looking for plants. When I approached,
  he turned round at the noise; and I saw that he had an interesting countenance
  in which a settled melancholy , strongly marked by benevolence , formed
  the principal feature. His long black hair was divided, and flowed over
  his shoulders. As his garb betokened a person of the lower order, I thought
  he would not take it ill if I inquired about his business ; and I therefore
  asked what he was seeking. He replied , with a deep sigh , that he was
  looking for flowers , and could find none. "But it is not the season ,
  " I observed, with a smile. "Oh, there are so many flowers!"