Cassandra
Cassandra Speaks in 2026. Unfortunately, her prophecy remains the same.
Cassandra
by Friedrich Schiller
I.
Joy resounded through the Trojan
Halls as the songs of lutes swelled;
Hymns were chanted by the drunken
Soon before the towers fell.
Weary heads now calmly rested,
Tears no longer plagued their eyes;
Peleus was soon expected
With his noble bride to rise.
II.
Troops with temples wreathed by laurel
Filled the sanctums of the gods;
All retiring, proudly marching
To the Thymbrian altar halls.
Streets were thriving with the madness
Of the dance-crazed bacchanal;
Yet forgotten in her sadness
Was but one unhappy soul.
III.
Everywhere Cassandra wandered
She was met with joy and cheer.
Still, she roamed Apollo’s orchards,
Haunted by her prescient fear.
She took refuge in the deepest
Acres of a sacred forest,
And flung in a raging tempest
Bindings of her priestly caste.
IV.
“Everyone rejoices proudly,
Every heart feels greatly blessed;
Parents look on hopefully
At my sister sweetly dressed.
I alone must mourn this moment,
Letting each dream flee my sight;
I alone must reckon ruin
Scaling walls once shining bright.
V.
“One dim, simple flame is glowing,
Though not held by Hymen’s hand,
Fires leap towards the Heavens,
Yet not burning from our brand.
Feasts before me I see lavished,
Yet my prophesying heart
Hears the crying and the anguish
Tearing all our joys apart.
VI.
“They all mock my lamentation,
My grief only eggs them on;
Lonely in my desolation,
Helpless, I must carry on.
Shamed by those who reap sweet fortune,
Blighting all their happiness;
I’m the herald of destruction,
Oh, immortal Pythias!
VII.
“Why have I been cursed so coldly,
Cast among the ever-blind?
Every day is dark and lonely
All because of my clear mind.
Why grant me the gift of forethought
If tomorrow can’t be changed?
The predestined can’t be altered—
Destiny remains unchained.
VIII.
“Why remove the sacred cover
If such terror can’t be stopped?
Life is fraught with endless error—
Knowledge of it leads to naught.
Take, oh take, this curse away now,
Rid me of this bloody sight;
Terror overwhelms the mortal
Witness of Truth’s burning light.
IX.
“Give me back those clueless blisses,
And a mind forever blind;
All my songs are spent of kindness,
Since your will has been divined.
With the future I am gifted,
In exchange the present flits;
All my joyful hours are wasted—
Spoiled are all this world’s sweet gifts!
X.
“Never has the bridal wreathing
Decked my young and virgin brow,
Since I heard my fated calling
As the keeper of this vow.
My best days are spent in weeping,
Pain is all my pure heart knows,
Now an overwhelming meaning
Conjures in me endless woes.
XI.
“Carelessly strolls every couple,
Laughing, loving, full of heart.
Beautifully garbed and youthful—
In my heart alone joys part.
Springtime’s buds seem all in vain
As they blanket Earth with bliss;
Who could enjoy life when staring
Into fate’s gaping abyss?
XII.
“Polyxena appears so blest
In her drunk, delusioned breast,
For, the best of Greece would wed her,
And their loving vows profess.
Confidently bears she her proud heart,
Joy erupting at the seams;
Even gods with their immortal art
Are not envied in her dreams.
XIII.
“He to whom my troth was plighted,
Who so honors my fair charms,
Looks on me with passioned gazes,
Calling me into his arms.
Gladly would I marry that man,
Make a loving home for him,
But the Stygean shades nightly ban
Our happy fate and loving.
XIV.
“All her omens and foreboding
Proserpine has given me;
Wherever I tread or wander
Ghostly spectres follow me.
All the joys of youthful pleasure
Are extinguished by these shades;
Overwhelming in their number,
They hound me through streets and glades.
XV.
“Specters of the death-steel shining
And the eye of murder glow;
There’s no chance of our escaping,
There’s no place where we may go.
Haunted daily by my prophecy,
No one can avoid Fate’s hand,
I must welcome my destiny:
Dying in a foreign land.”
XVI.
As her plaintive songs still echo,
A distant voice is heard
From the gates of the chief temple:
Thetis’ son has left the world!
Eris with her serpents screeches,
All the gods have swiftly flown;
Looming thunderclouds now rumble,
Heavy over Ilium.
Translation © David B. Gosselin
An agreeable poem. Thx for sharing this. "Cast among the ever blind..." Seeing quite clearly where it all leads can make it hard to join in the revelries. Her special sight was an especial curse. When the trappings don't hide the essence, one is fully disconnected from the general outlook and experience. The most discerning can only lament the spectacle--and pointlessly warn. The occasional "Schopenhauerian poet" could certainly feel helpless to help--& condemned to see what no one else does. Too bad fact is everywhere, and not just an apparition. I'd guess Cassandra was a stand-in for Schiller. Do they call him a "pessimist" too? The blind will always label with loaded terms. They've certainly stocked Ai with a full supply of them. Again, most agreeable. And thx again for sharing.
Verse V line 3: Wouldn't 'Fires leap up towards the Heavens' work better? I must say your scansion really has improved! Now you need to work on surprising aptness. I mean at the level of the individual word.