Why is it said to be Guo Moruo's "Faust"? We all know he is just the translator, and the real author is called "Goethe." Since it is a translation, I can believe that it is almost a poetic drama created by the translator. Guo Moruo from Germany.
My articles about literature and books on my blog are usually written bit by bit. Please don't mind.
After reading "Ode," I thought of a poem by He Qifang called "Prophecy." I will paste it below:
This day of a heartbeat has finally arrived!
Ah, your sigh of the night is like the approaching footsteps
I can clearly hear it is the whisper of leaves and the night wind,
The delicate hoofbeats of deer rushing past the mossy path!
Tell me with your silver bell-like voice,
Are you the young god in the prophecy?
You must come from that warm and rich south!
Tell me about the moonlight there, the sunlight there!
Tell me how the spring breeze opens a hundred flowers,
How the swallows are infatuated with the green willows!
I will close my eyes and sleep in your dreamy song,
That warmth I seem to remember, yet seem to forget.
Please stop your weary rush,
Come in, there is a tiger-skin mat for you to sit on!
Let me burn every fallen leaf picked up in autumn
And listen to me softly sing my own song!
That song will be as heavy and soaring as the firelight,
Like firelight, it will tell the story of my life.
Don't move forward! Ahead is an endless forest:
Ancient trees show the patterns on the bodies of beasts,
Half alive and half dead, the vines are intertwined,
Not a single star can leak through the dense leaves...
You will timidly hesitate to take a second step,
When you hear the empty sound of the first step.
Must you go? Please wait for me to walk with you!
My footsteps know every familiar path,
I can keep singing the song of forgetfulness,
Again give you, again give you the warmth of my hand!
When the thick darkness of night cuts us off,
You can gaze into my eyes without turning away!
You do not listen to my excited song,
Your feet do not pause for my trembling!
Like a tranquil breeze passing through this dusk,
You have disappeared, your proud footsteps have vanished!
Ah, you have finally come as the prophecy said, silent,
And left in silence, young god?
Autumn of 1931
"Ode" and "Prologue on Stage" were almost omitted by me. This does not mean I skipped them outright. Rather, I did not grasp Goethe's meaning. Is "Ode" written about the thoughts of the final Doctor Faust? And is "Prologue on Stage" Goethe's own morality for a poet? — I am afraid not.
This truly deserves a revisit later.