"Travel Notes in the Harz Mountains (Excerpt)·Heine"

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The sun rises. The mist lifted, as if the ghosts heard the third rooster crow. I went up and down the mountain again, with the beautiful sun floating in front of me, always shining on the fresh beauty. The mountain god obviously treated me favorably; he probably knew that such a poet could repeat many wonderful things, and he let me see his Harz Mountains this morning, which not everyone can see. But the Harz Mountains also looked at me, whom only a few people had seen, and the pearls in my eyelashes were as precious as those in the grass in the valley. The morning dew of love moistens my cheeks. The rustling fir trees understand me, their branches stretch out to each other, swaying up and down, like dumb people expressing their joy with their hands, and there is a mysterious and sweet sound in the distance, as if coming from an unknown church in the forest. bells. People say that these are the bells of the herd, they ring so cutely, clearly and purely in the Harz Mountains.

It was noon according to the position of the sun. I met such a herd. The shepherd boy was a kind blond boy. He told me that the mountain I was standing at the foot of was like this. It’s the ancient, world-famous Brocken. There were no houses for several miles around, so the young man invited me to have dinner with him. I was very happy. We sat down to a de jeuner dinatoire of cheese and bread; the lambs grabbed the crumbs, and the lovely fattened calves leaped around us, making dexterous noises. Ringing their bells and smiling at us with their big happy eyes. We ate like kings; originally I thought my master was a real king, because until now, he is the only king who has given me bread, so I also want to sing his praises like a king.

The shepherd boy is a king,

The throne is a green hill,

The heavy gold crown,

The sheep lie at his feet,

The flatterers are marked with red crosses;

The calves are his attendants

Pride And strolling majestically.

The goats were the court entertainers,

and the cows and the songbirds,

playing the flutes and ringing the little bells,

They are all court entertainers.

Playing music and singing are so lovely,

There are also conger waves and flowing water

Lovely sound in the middle,

The king is also in a trance. Fall asleep.

The dog, his minister,

must govern at this time,

His barking

makes people all around responded.

The young king talked in his sleep:

"The state affairs are so complicated,

Oh, I wish I was at home,

By my Queen's side!

"In my Queen's arms

Rest my head softly,

In her dear eyes

I have a vast land! ”

We parted amicably, and I happily climbed up the mountain. Soon I was greeted by a fir forest as high as the sky. I have respect for fir trees in any relationship. These trees It is not easy for them to grow. They are very difficult when they are young. The mountains here are covered with many huge granite blocks. Most of the trees have to use their roots to wrap around or break through these stones, and they have to work hard to find them. They can absorb nutrients from the soil. There are stones piled up everywhere, almost forming a gate. There are trees growing on it. The trees lead their roots through the stone gate, and they grab the ground below the stone gate. Even the tree roots seem to be growing on the ground. But rising toward the majestic heights, and seemingly growing among the coiled stones, they were stronger than their comfortable companions in the mild woodlands of the plains. The great ones are established in life in this way. They have made themselves strong and strong by overcoming the difficulties and obstacles in their early years. There are squirrels crawling on the fir branches and yellow elk walking under the trees. Every time I see such a lovely noble person. I cannot understand how educated people can hunt and kill elk for fun. Such a beast is more merciful than human beings. It once nursed the emaciated son of the holy Genofeva, Smelsan. Lacey.

The golden sunlight penetrates the dense fir green very lovely. The tree roots form a natural ladder; because the stones are one foot high and covered with the most beautiful trees. It is covered with moss, like bright green velvet, and has a lovely coolness, like the sound of a dreamy spring. We see everywhere how the water flows silvery under the rocks, washing the roots and young roots of the trees. Getting down to observe these vitalities is like listening to the secret formation history of the plant world and the beating of the peaceful heart of the mountain. In some places, the water surges more strongly from the rocks and tree roots, forming a small waterfall where you can sit and rest.

The sound of the gurgling water is so sweet, the birds sing intermittent lovesickness songs, the trees seem to be whispering with the wonderful tongues of thousands of girls, and the wonderful mountain flowers seem to look at us with the eyes of thousands of girls, they look towards us. We stretched out the wide, strangely jagged leaves, the happy sunlight flashed here and there, the clever grass told each other green fairy tales, everything seemed to be possessed, getting closer and closer, an old dream was reborn, my lover Appeared—ah, she vanished so quickly!

The higher the mountain climbs, the smaller the fir trees become, and they seem to huddle together more and more until there are only blueberry and redberry bushes and mountain grass. It feels colder here too. It is here that the strange granite blocks come into full play; they are often astonishingly large. When the banshees came riding on broomsticks and dung forks on the night of Walpurgis, and the absurd carnival was about to begin, the stones may have been balls thrown by the devils at each other, as the superstitious nanny described. It is said, and can also be seen in the beautiful illustrations of "Faust" by painter Lei Zhi. Yes, a young poet rode through Broken on his journey from Berlin to G?ttingen on the eve of May 1st. He even saw a few literary-loving women driving their cars on a mountain corner. At the Aesthetic Tea Party, they leisurely read the Aftonbladet, praised their bleating little goats that jumped around the tea table and wrote poems as omnipotent geniuses, and made the final judgment on the general phenomenon of German literature; but when they also talked about When "Ratcliffe" and "Almanceau" concluded that the author lacked piety and Christian spirit, the young poet's hair stood on end and he felt frightened - I galloped over and ran over.

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Everyone moved forward quickly. Halle's students moved forward faster than the Austrian reserve army. Before we knew it, we had passed the bald part of the mountain with its scattered stony bushes, and we passed through a fir forest, just like the one we had seen yesterday. The sun has cast its most solemn light, illuminating these young people dressed in various colors. They walk through the woods so lively, disappearing here and reappearing there. When they encounter a swamp, they cross the tree trunks that cross it, and when they encounter a sloping In the depths, they cling to the overgrown tree roots and sing loudly in the most joyful tones, receiving equally happy answers from the song of forest birds, the rolling waves of fir trees, the murmuring of invisible springs and the echo of reaction. When happy youth and beautiful nature come together, they exchange pleasures with each other.

The further we went down, the more lovely the sound of the underground running water became. It just flickered out under the rocks and trees everywhere, as if secretly listening to see if we could move towards the light; in the end there was a small wave. Lian Jue rushed out. The usual phenomenon is shown here: A brave man makes a start, and the hesitant ones in the group suddenly and surprisingly have the courage to join the leader. A group of other springs are now rapidly pouring out of their hiding places. , and combined with the initial outflow, they immediately formed a considerable stream, flowing down the valley through countless waterfalls and strange bends. This is Ilse, this lovely, sweet Ilse! It flows through the happy Irse Valley, and is flanked by mountains that rise gradually higher and higher. Most of these mountains down to their feet are covered with beech, oak and ordinary deciduous trees. There are no more firs or other conifers. Because those deciduous trees are particularly dominant in the Lower Harz in the eastern Brocken, conversely, the western Brocken, called the High Harz, is much higher than here, so it is also more suitable for the growth of coniferous trees.

It is indescribable with what joy, simplicity and affection Ilse flows down from the rocks of strange and dangerous construction encountered in its course, causing the water to flow in some places. It boils turbulently or overflows with foam. In other places, it pours out from various stone cracks, like pouring from a kettle, forming a white arc, and then slowly steps on the small stones below. , like a lively girl. Yes, the legend is true, Ilse was a princess and she ran down the mountain smiling and glowing. How her white foamy garments shone in the sunlight! How her silver breastband fluttered in the wind! How her diamonds glow and sparkle! The tall beech tree stood next to it like serious father and brother, they smiled secretly, watching the indulgence of this lovely child; the white birch swayed, with the joy of an aunt, but at the same time was afraid of these bold jumps; the proud oak tree Staring attentively, like a troubled uncle who has to spend money for the beautiful weather, the birds cheer in the breeze, and the flowers on the shore whisper softly: "Ah, take us there, take us there, my dear "Little sister!" - But the happy girl kept jumping, and she suddenly moved the dreaming poet, and a rain of flowers with light and sound fell on me. In front of this clear beauty, my heart The consciousness disappeared, but I still heard the sweet sound of the flute:

I am Princess Ilse,

I live in Ilse Rock;

Follow me to my palace,

We will live happily.

I will wash your head

With my clear ripples,

You will forget your pain,

You People who are sick from worry!

In my white wrist,

In my white chest,

If you want to sleep, you still dream

Every day fairy tale joy.

I want to kiss you and love you more,

Like the one I loved and kissed,

The one who is now dead,

Dear of Emperor Henry.

The dead are dead forever,

Only the living survive;

I am beautiful and young,

My smiling heart It's vibrating.

If my heart vibrates below,

My crystal palace rings,

The lady dances with the knights,

The entourage The team was cheering.

The long silk skirts rustled,

The nails that spurred the horses clanked,

The dwarfs played drums and trumpets,

Pulled Playing the huqin and blowing the military pipes.

My arm must hold you,

Like it held Emperor Henry;

I once covered his ears,

Every time the horn sounds.

This feeling is infinite happiness, if the world of phenomena and our inner world melt together, and green trees, thoughts, bird songs, sorrow, blue sky, memories and herbs form a wonderful tapestry. Women know this feeling best, so such a wonderful and skeptical smile can also float on their lips. Whenever we exalt our logical facts with academic pride, how we divide everything so neatly into the objective and the subjective, how we equip our minds like an apothecary with countless drawers, each containing reason. , in the other is reason, in the third is wit, in the fourth is bad wit, in the fifth there is nothing but ideas.

As if wandering in a dream, I hardly noticed that we left the lower reaches of the Irse Valley and ascended the mountains again. The walk was steep and strenuous, and some of us were out of breath. But like the man who was buried in Morun after our death, we thought about going down the mountain in advance, so we were happier. Finally we arrived at Ilse Rock.

This is a very large mass of granite, rising tall and brave from the abyss. On three sides it was surrounded by lofty, wooded hills, but the fourth, to the north, was open, and afforded a view of the castle of Ilse below, and of the river Irse, which flowed far into the lowlands. On the top of the stone tower-like tower stands a great iron cross, with room for only four human feet.

Just as nature adorns the Ilse Rock with strange beauties due to its topography and shape, so legend also injects the splendor of its rose into it. Gottschak wrote: "People say that there is a magic palace here, and the rich and beautiful Princess Irse lives in it. She still bathes in the Irse River every morning; whoever is lucky enough to meet that At the right moment, he was led by her to her palace on the rock, and was treated like a king. " Others tell a beautiful story about the love between Miss Ilse and the knight of Westenberg, which is most familiar to us. One of the poets once sang romantically in the "Evening Post". Some people have different opinions: It was the ancient Saxon Emperor Henry. He and Ilse, the beautiful water fairy, enjoyed the most imperial moments in her magic rock castle. A recent author, the distinguished Herr Niemann, has written a "Traveler's Handbook to the Harz Mountains" in which he describes with commendable effort and exact figures the height of the mountains, the deflection of the magnetic needle, the debts of the cities, and the like. While telling the story, he maintained: "What people say about the beautiful Princess Ilse belongs to the world of fables." All people who have never seen such a princess say so; but we, we are especially taught by beauty. The woman who was so kind knew that there was really Princess Ilse, and Emperor Henry also knew it. It was not in vain that the ancient Saxon emperors were so attached to their native Harz. We only need to look through the exquisite "Chronicles of Lüneburg". The very simple woodcuts in it depict those kind-hearted ancient monarchs, fully armored, riding high on armed war horses, with sacred crowns on their loyal heads. Strong hands held scepter and sword; they and their successors were often seduced by a desire to be honored as Roman Emperor, that is, by a true German desire for titles that brought death to both emperor and country. Foreign countries, even to the South, where lemons and poisons are equally luxuriant - we can clearly see in those lovely, tendriled faces how they often longed for the sweetness of the Harz princesses while they were there. heart and the intimate sound of the Harz woods.

But I advise everyone who stands on the top of Ilse Rock not to think about the emperor and the country, nor to think about beautiful Ilse, but only to think about his feet. Because as I stood there, lost in thought, I suddenly heard the underground music in the magic palace, and I saw how the mountains stood on their heads all around, the red tiled roof of Ilseburg began to dance, and the green trees were dancing in the blue. Flying around in the air, my eyes turned blue and green, and I felt dizzy. I was really about to fall into the abyss, if I hadn't hugged the iron cross tightly at this critical moment. I did this in such a dangerous situation, no one will blame me.

(Translated by Feng Zhi)

Notes:

Minister: Heine here may be referring to Metternich, Prime Minister of the Austrian reactionary Communist Party.

Genofeeva: a duchess in German folklore who was born in the 8th century AD. While her husband was traveling, she was falsely accused by a court official and fled into the forest. For seven years, she ate grass roots in the forest while a doe nursed her son. Her son's name was Shmelsham Lacey, which means "full of pain."

Walpurski Night: According to German folklore, devils and witches dance on the Brocken Mountain every year from April 30 to May 1. This night is called "Walpurski Night". Sri Lanka night". There is a scene from "Walpurkis Night" in Goethe's "Faust".

Lei Zhi (1779-1857): German painter. In 1816, he created 26 illustrations for the upper part of Goethe's "Faust".

"Aftonbahn": It was a newspaper published in Dresden at that time. The newspaper published some vulgar literary works of the last generation of Romantics, while at the same time criticizing the best works of world literature.

Heine here satirizes the women in the salons of bourgeois society, comparing them to banshees.

"Ratcliffe" and "Almanzo": two tragedies written by Heine between 1820 and 1821.

Austria's Reserve Army: This army is known for its laxity and slowness.

Heine here refers to his uncle Solomon Heine. His uncle was a businessman and often gave Heine financial help.

That guy: Refers to Spiegel. Spiegel is a funny character in German legend. He made many ridiculous words and deeds in his life. He died in 1350 and was buried in Molun. Every time he went up the mountain, he thought about going down, so he was very happy and never felt tired.

Refers to a poem "Westernberg in Ilse Rock and Ilse Rock" published in the "Evening Post" in September 1824. The author's pen name was Herr.

"Harz Mountain Travel Manual": Published in 1824, Heine was dissatisfied with the boring content of this book.

Appreciation

In September 1824, a poet hiked through the beautiful Harz Mountains in Germany and visited surrounding places such as Halle, Weimar, Jena, Gotha, etc. Historical city. This one-month trip not only contributed to the birth of a travelogue that is famous in the literary world, but also made the Harz Mountains known to more people and became a world-famous tourist attraction. This poet is Heine, and this masterpiece of prose is "Travel to the Harz Mountains".

In this travelogue, Heine praises the magnificent natural scenery of the motherland in a rich lyrical style, exposes the suffocating dark corruption status of Germany in the 1820s in a humorous and satirical way, and laughs at the Reactionary feudal rulers, obsolete universities, vulgar philistines, intolerant nationalists, and passive romantics; at the same time, it records the working life of mountain miners with deep sympathy.

When describing the beautiful scenery of the Harz Mountains, the author followed the romantic style of writing and strongly expressed his admiration and reverence for nature. Emotions are triggered by the scenery, scenery is the sustenance of the feelings, and the scenes blend together. The beautiful picture scroll of the Harz Mountains contains the author's rich emotions, thus transcending the simple description of natural scenery and entering a realm of profound charm; presented to readers It is a dreamy landscape filled with poetry and painting, a wild landscape shrouded in artistic luster. The golden sunlight shining happily, the swaying branches in the dense green shade, the pastoral bells as clear and pure as church bells, the tinkling gurgling stream, the singing forest birds, and the billowing firs. Tao... Everything in the Harz Mountains seems to be alive with joy due to the arrival of the author. The green trees are "whispering with the wonderful tongues of thousands of girls", and the wonderful mountain flowers are "like using thousands of flowers." The girl’s eyes look towards us”. The pure natural scenery seems to be able to feel the emotions of tourists and communicate with them perfectly, just like "the phenomenal world and our inner world melt together, a wonderful world composed of green trees, thoughts, bird songs, sorrow, blue sky, memories and herbs" 's tapestry". Furthermore, the author combines rich folk legends and uses his wonderful imagination to shuttle back and forth between reality and fantasy without any hindrance. One moment he visited Valpurkis Night and witnessed the dance of banshees and devils on the Broken Mountain; the next moment he "confirmed" the beautiful legend of Princess Irse in the gentle flow of the Irse River from the rocks. It depicts the image of a pure, beautiful, and bright girl; while thinking in trance on the top of the Ilse Rock, the author seemed to hear the underground music of the magic palace, and unfolded his fantasy about it in dizziness...

While showing charming natural scenery pictures, the author also expressed his keen observation and profound thinking about the real society. The romantic poetic meaning contains extremely profound realist exposure and criticism content. For example, the author enjoyed a delicious lunch with a friendly shepherd boy in the bright sunshine and elegant breeze at noon, surrounded by brocade trees and flowers and surrounded by lambs and calves. He improvised a poem to praise the innocent and pure blond boy. From emotion and lyricism to pungent satire that criticizes current ills, sheep, calves, goats, and songbirds are used as metaphors for flatterers, attendants, actors, and musicians respectively, pointing the finger directly at the backward and decadent feudal autocratic system and its extravagant and licentious palace life. The author is good at combining lyricism and argumentation, revealing philosophy in his touching scenes.

For example, when describing the fir tree growing in the rock crevices in the mountains, I not only express deep admiration for its lush branches and towering tenacious vitality, but also think of those great figures in history who overcame the difficulties in their early years. He was able to achieve a career despite all the difficulties and obstacles. He worked hard and stood firm in the face of adversity in life, and finally went down in history. From these philosophical discussions, we can feel Heine's high-spirited revolutionary enthusiasm and firm belief in pursuing beautiful ideals, showing Heine's fundamental transformation from a romantic poet to a revolutionary democratic poet.

The strange combination of reality and fiction in "Travel to the Harz Mountains", as well as the artistic characteristics of integrating travel notes, landscape descriptions, social criticism and literary debates, have been imitated by later writers. The Harz Mountains, with their green trees and flowers, have also become a must-see for travel enthusiasts. Coming to the Harz Mountains, visiting Quedlinburg, and climbing the Brocken Mountain are all enjoyable experiences, and the most famous place here, the "Henrich Heine" Hotel, attracts even more tourists. Can't miss it.

(Yuan Wei)