Friedrich Holderlin

(20 March 1770 – 6 June 1843 / Germany)

Friedrich Holderlin Poems

1. Ages Of Life 4/2/2012
2. Another Day 4/2/2012
3. As On A Holiday 9/13/2010
4. At The Middle Of Life 9/13/2010
5. Bread And Wine 4/2/2012
6. Celebration Of Peace 9/13/2010
7. For Zimmer 9/13/2010
8. From In Lovely Blue 4/2/2012
9. Half Of Life 4/2/2012
10. Homecoming 9/13/2010
11. Human Applause 9/13/2010
12. Hyperion's Song Of Destiny 9/13/2010
13. Looking Outward 9/13/2010
14. Mnemosyne 9/13/2010
15. Once Gods Walked... 9/13/2010
16. Out For A Walk 9/13/2010
17. Patmos 9/13/2010
18. Remembrance 9/13/2010
19. The Course Of Life 9/13/2010
20. The Ister 4/2/2012
21. The Journey 4/2/2012
22. The Neckar 9/13/2010
23. The Titans 4/2/2012
24. Then And Now 4/2/2012
25. To The Fates 4/2/2012
26. To The Sun God 9/13/2010
27. When I Was A Boy 9/13/2010

Comments about Friedrich Holderlin

  • Morgan Michaels (10/19/2018 9:23:00 PM)

    Saw holiness in everything. Vision-stricken. Tremendous pathos. Mind-boggling hexameters. No rhyme. Completely cogent. A bit paranoid. Strange vertigo. You can't help but love him. With Holderlin, who needs Pindar?

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  • Bob Hougland (2/16/2018 4:16:00 PM)

    He thought passionately about the meaning and purpose of life for the human being subject to decay to death in a universe also entropically doomed; and discovered in listening to language the call of Being in and with the gift of Being eternal..

Best Poem of Friedrich Holderlin

Half Of Life

With its yellow pears
And wild roses everywhere
The shore hangs into the lake,
O gracious swans,
And drunk with kisses
You dip your heads
In the sobering holy water.

Ah, where will I find
Flowers, come winter,
And where the sunshine
And shade of the earth ?
Walls stand cold
And speechless, in the wind
The wheathervanes creak.

Read the full of Half Of Life

Celebration Of Peace

The holy, familiar hall, built long ago,
Is aired, and filled with heavenly,
Softly echoing, quietly modulating music.
A cloud of joy sends fragrance
Over the green carpets. Shining in the
Distance, a splendid row of gold-wreathed
Cups stands, well-ordered, full of ripe fruits.
Tables stand at the sides, rising above
The leveled ground. For now in the evening

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