Genius

By Friedrich Schiller

Schiller entreats a spirit of Genius from a distant age to enlighten him about the path to true wisdom and happiness. The spirit refers him to a “Great Golden Age” where the eternal and divine was still equally clear and equally hidden to all men. But despite the fallen age which the narrator inhabits, the spirit of Genius reminds him that the real thing continues to exist and dwells within “those quieter souls” on whom Nature still confers “the sweet wisdom of ages.”

Genius

“Have I faith,” you inquire, “in the words which the wise masters teach,
And the neophytes rush in their throngs to avow?

Can the pursuit of knowledge alone offer one lasting peace,
Or is it granted by nothing but fortune and law?

Must I doubt what a deep stirring sense already intimates,
Which Thou, Nature, instilled in the depths of my heart,

‘Till the schools can approve with their seal what was writ on the scroll,
And the formula’s rule has enchained the fugitive soul?

Tell me then, you who once crossed the depths of that dark, chasmic world
And returned from the grave without scars or regret,

You have fathomed the wisdom concealed by those darkly writ sayings,
And can tell if sweet respite awaits among the mummies.

I shudder, knowing I might get lost on that dark thoroughfare,
But I’ll walk if I must, if it leads to the just and the true.

“Oh, my friend, have you heard of the great Golden Age,
Of which rhapsodes and bards once so movingly told.

These were times when pure, bright holiness still inhabited earth,
And a virginal sense still kept guard over our young race.

When the glorious law still directed the sun in its path,
And the primal beginning of all was still traced in the egg.

These were times when Necessity ruled with a mystical grace
In the breast of all men in a less turgid form.

When the mind, ever constant, like hands of the dial,
Pointed eternally to the changeless and true.

There was none to profane, no initiate to coax or impress,
And the feeling that lives was not sought in the tomb.

The eternal idea was still clear in the hearts of all men,
And its source was still equally hidden from all men.

But that fortunate era of gold has departed from earth!
Heartlessness has destroyed the peace found in Thou, divine Nature.

That now profaned emotion’s no longer the voice of the gods,
And the oracle found within each honored breast has been hushed.

Now that listening spirit but lurks in those quieter souls,
Where the mystical word still preserves the mind’s hallowed place.

There the searching soul may still uncover its untainted form,
And there, Nature restores the sweet wisdom of ages.

If you, fortunate soul, never forsook your guardian angel,
Never silenced the warnings of a pious instinct;

And within your eyes shimmers still vividly the sweet, blessed truth,
Whispering like a soft, limpid stream in your childlike heart;

And if doubt’s harsh rebellion’s still quelled in your breast,
Rest assured that it will remain forevermore silent.

Then no judge will be needed when the sentiments clash,
Nor the light of your Reason be darkened by malice.

Oh, then make your own way in your innocent and precious state.
Knowledge can teach you naught—it must learn from you!

And the law which must quell raging crowds with the wrought iron rod
Will mean naught—what you love is already the law.

Generations to come will be moved by the same godly rule:
What your holy hand shapes and your holy mouth speaks

Will astonish the mind with an awesome and hidden power,
Yet you will not perceive the great God at work in your heart,

Nor the force of the signet that frightens the clamoring mass,
You will just make your way in the world you’ve already won.

For you blindly achieved what the rest of us missed in the light,
Just as children at play succeed where the wisest have failed.