After the Sea-Ship
After the sea-ship, after the whistling winds, / After the white-gray sails taut to their spars and ropes,
Darest thou now O soul,
Walk out with me toward the unknown region,
Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow?
No map there, nor guide,
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.
I know it not O soul,
Nor dost thou, all is a blank before us,
All waits undream'd of in that region, that inaccessible land.
Till when the ties loosen,
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds bounding us.
Then we burst forth, we float,
In Time and Space O soul, prepared for them,
Equal, equipt at last, (O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil O soul.
After the sea-ship, after the whistling winds, / After the white-gray sails taut to their spars and ropes,
Not heat flames up and consumes, / Not sea-waves hurry in and out,
Aboard at a ship's helm, / A young steersman steering with care.
Pensive on her dead gazing I heard the Mother of All, / Desperate on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battlefields gazing,