August Graf von Platen

August Graf von Platen Poems

Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen,
Ist dem Tode schon anheim gegeben,
Wird für keinen Dienst auf Erden taugen,
...

Nächtlich am Busento lispeln bei Cosenza dumpfe Lieder.
Aus den Wassern schallt es Antwort, in den Wirbeln klingt es wider.
...

Oh, he whose pain means life, whose life means pain,
May feel again what I have felt before;
...

On Busento's grassy banks a muffled chorus echoes nightly,
While the swirling eddies answer and the wavelets ripple lightly.
...

'Tis night, and tempests whistle o'er the moor;
Oh, Spanish father, ope the door!
Deny me not the little boon I crave,
...

Would I were free as are my dreams,
Sequestered from the garish crowd
To glide by banks of quiet streams
Cooled by the shadow-drifting cloud!
...

How I started up in the night, in the night,
Drawn on without rest or reprieval!
The streets with their watchmen were lost to my sight,
...

August Graf von Platen Biography

Graf August von Platen-Hallermünde (24 October 1796 - 5 December 1835), German poet and dramatist, was born at Ansbach, the son of the Oberforstmeister in the little principality of that name. In German he mostly is called Count (Graf) Platen. The latter, together with other Franconian principalities, having shortly after his birth become incorporated with Bavaria, he entered the school of cadets (Kadettenhaus) in Munich, where he showed early promise of poetical talent. In 1810 he passed into the royal school of pages (Königliche Pagerie), and in 1814 was appointed lieutenant in the regiment of Bavarian life-guards. With it he took part in the short campaign in France of 1815, being in bivouac for several months near Mannheim and in the department of the Yonne. He saw no fighting, however, and returned home with his regiment towards the close of the same year. Possessed of an intense desire for study, and finding garrison life distasteful and irksome, he obtained a long leave of absence, and after a tour in Switzerland and the Bavarian Alps, entered the university of Würzburg in 1818 as a student of philosophy and philology. In the following year he migrated to that of Erlangen, where he sat at the feet of Schelling, and became one of his most enthusiastic admirers. As a result of his Oriental studies he published a little volume of poems — Ghaselen (1821), each consisting of ten to twenty verses, in which he imitates the style of Rückert; Lyrische Blätter (1821); Spiegel des Hafis (1822); Vermischte Schriften (1822); and Neue Ghaselen (1823). These productions attracted the attention of eminent men of letters among them Goethe, both by reason of their contents, which breathe the spirit of the East, and also of the purity and elegance of their form and diction. Though he was at first influenced by the school of Romanticism, and particularly by Spanish models, yet the plays written during his university life, at Erlangen, Der gläserne Pantoffel, Der Schatz des Rhampsinit, Berengar, Treue um Treue, Der Turm mit sieben Pforten, show a clearness of plot and expression foreign to the Romantic style. His antagonism to the literature of his day became more and more pronounced, and he vented his indignation at the want of art shown by the later Romanticists, the inanity of the lyricists, and the bad taste of the so-called fate tragedies (Schicksalstragödien), in the witty Aristophanic comedies Die verhängnißvolle Gabel (1826) and Der romantische Oedipus (1828). The want of interest, amounting even to hostility, with which Platen's enthusiasm for the purity and dignity of poetry was received in many literary circles in Germany increased the poet's indignation and disgust. In 1826 he visited Italy, which he henceforth made his home, living at Florence, Rome and Naples. His means were slender, but, though frequently necessitous, he felt happy in the life he had chosen, that of a wandering rhapsodist. Offended by Heinrich Heine’s mockery of “die Orientsucht” – the obsession with the Orient in poetry – in his work Reisebilder, zweiter Teil (1827), von Platen expressed anti-Semitic sentiment directed at Heine in his work Der romantische Oedipus (1828). Heine reacted in turn by publicizing von Platen’s homosexuality in Reisebilder dritter Teil (1830). This back and forth of mockery and ad hominem attacks are also referred to as “die von Platen Affaire”. In Naples, where he formed the friendship of August Kopisch, the poet and painter, were written his last drama Die Liga von Cambrai (1833) and the delightful epic fairy-tale Die Abbassiden (1830; 1834), besides numerous lyrical poems, odes and ballads. He also essayed historical work in a fragment, Geschichte des Königreichs Neapel von 1414 bis 1443 (1838), without, however, achieving any marked success. In 1832 his father died, and after an absence of eight years Platen returned to Germany for a while, and in the winter of 1832-1833 lived at Munich, where he revised the first complete edition of his poems, Gedichte (1833). In the summer of 1834 he returned to Italy, and, after living in Florence and Naples, proceeded in 1835 to Sicily. Dread of the cholera, which was at that time very prevalent, induced him to move from place to place, and in November of that year he was taken ill at Syracuse, where he died on 5 December 1835. Like Heine himself, Platen failed in the drama, but his odes and sonnets, to which must be added his Polenlieder (1831), in which he gives vent to his warm sympathy for the Poles in their rising against the rule of the Tsar, are in language and metre so artistically finished as to rank among the best classical poems of modern times.)

The Best Poem Of August Graf von Platen

Aus Tristan Und Isolde

Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen,
Ist dem Tode schon anheim gegeben,
Wird für keinen Dienst auf Erden taugen,
Und doch wird er vor dem Tode beben,
Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen.
Ewig währt für ihn der Schmerz der Liebe,
Denn ein Thor nur kann auf Erden hoffen,
Zu genügen einem solchen Triebe.
Wen der Pfeil des Schönen je getroffen,
Ewig währt für ihn der Schmerz der Liebe!
Was er wünscht, das ist ihm nie geworden,
Und die Stunden, die das Leben spinnen,
Sind nur Mörder, die gemach ihn morden:
Was er will, das wird er nie gewinnen,
Was er wünscht, das ist ihm nie geworden.
Ach, er möchte wie ein Quell versiechen,
Jedem Hauch der Luft ein Gift entsaugen
Und den Tod aus jeder Blume riechen:
Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen,
Ach, er möchte wie ein Quell versiechen!

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