The Poet Poem by Hermann Hesse

The Poet

Rating: 3.6


Only on me, the lonely one,
The unending stars of the night shine,
The stone fountain whispers its magic song,
To me alone, to me the lonely one
The colorful shadows of the wandering clouds
Move like dreams over the open countryside.
Neither house nor farmland,
Neither forest nor hunting privilege is given to me,
What is mine belongs to no one,
The plunging brook behind the veil of the woods,
The frightening sea,
The bird whir of children at play,
The weeping and singing, lonely in the evening, of a man secretly in love.
The temples of the gods are mine also, and mine
the aristocratic groves of the past.
And no less, the luminous
Vault of heaven in the future is my home:
Often in full flight of longing my soul storms upward,
To gaze on the future of blessed men,
Love, overcoming the law, love from people to people.
I find them all again, nobly transformed:
Farmer, king, tradesman, busy sailors,
Shepherd and gardener, all of them
Gratefully celebrate the festival of the future world.
Only the poet is missing,
The lonely one who looks on,
The bearer of human longing, the pale image
Of whom the future, the fulfillment of the world
Has no further need. Many garlands
Wilt on his grave,
But no one remembers him.


1911

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bill Noble 27 September 2013

Brief but compelling.

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Mario Li 08 April 2014

Where is the content?

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Richard Wlodarski 05 June 2022

His last stanza is priceless! His last sentence is very ironic. Hesse was best known for Siddharta and Steppenwolf. Both novels are classics. And have garnered a huge following. Unfortunately, he won't be remembered for his poetry.

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Matt Starking 05 June 2022

Wow nice reflective poem, thanks for writing

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Larry Lynch 30 January 2021

'...all of them Gratefully celebrate the festival of the future world. Only the poet is missing, The lonely one who looks on, The bearer of human longing...' so true for many writers, though not all write about the emptiness of longing - read Billy Collins, for example

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Chinedu Dike 22 October 2019

A poignant rendition, well conceived and elegantly crafted in persuasive poetic expressions with insight.

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Dr Antony Theodore 06 June 2019

The weeping and singing, lonely in the evening, of a man secretly in love. The temples of the gods are mine also, and mine the aristocratic groves of the past. the great Hermann Hesse the author of Sidharta.

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Hermann Hesse

Hermann Hesse

Calw, Württemberg
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