Prologue in Heaven
from FAUST by J.W. von Goethe
The Lord, the Heavenly Hosts, later Mephistopheles.
The Archangels
step forward.
RAPHAEL
The sun resounds as once of old
In loving
spheres of motley song,
Predestined is its journey bold,
Ripening as
it flows along.
Its sight the angels new strength gives,
Though none
can fathom how its done;
The inconceivable still lives
In glory as
when the days were one.
GABRIEL
How marvelously right
The splendiferous
earth revolves,
It interchanges heaven's light
With dismal darkness
unresolved,
It churns the seas and violent rivers
through rocky soil
in convolution,
and rocks and seas apart are driven
In swift eternal
revolution.
MICHAEL
And storms complete with briny bluster
From
sea to land and land to sea,
Forge a chain from fury's fluster
That
binds the world in harmony.
A fearful bolt of lightning's
flame
Precedes the devastating thunder;
But angels worthy of the
name
Revere in awe each daily wonder.
ALL THREE
Its sight the angels new strength
gives,
Though none can fathom how it's done;
The inconceivable still
lives
In glory as when the days were one.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Since you, O Lord, approach us once
again
And ask us how our work is getting on,
And since I've given
pleasure now and then,
You see me here debating with the throng.
My
choice of words leaves much to be desired,
I'm subject to this circle's
cruelest scorn;
You'd die laughing at pathos by me inspired,
If
laughter were not a thing you'd long forsworn.
About the sun I've nothing
to confess,
I only see how men are in a mess.
The god of earth is
still his father's son,
As queer as when the days were one.
Somewhat
better would he live
Had you forgot heaven's light to give.
His use of
reason's minimal,
Lower than the lowest animal,
He seems to be, with
permission of Your Grace,
A cricket jumping all around the
place,
Who's always spinning and spinning springs,
and in the grass
the same old lyric sings;
If only he'd molder in the grass
And not
stick his nose in such morass.
THE LORD
Have you nothing else to say?
Must you
always arrogance display?
Doesn't anything on earth seem good to you?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No Sir, I find things rotten through and
through.
So sorry for humanity am I
That tormenting it almost makes me
cry.
THE LORD
Do you know Faust?
MEPHISTOPHELES
The doctor?
THE LORD
My servant.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of course. He serves you in a special
way,
Keeping even food and drink at bay,
Confusion plays the devil
with his mind.
Though knowing only fools would take such measures,
He
asks that heaven show him orbs sublime
And earth provide him all its
pleasures;
Not all that's high nor all that's low
Can satisfy his will
to know.
THE LORD
Although he serves me in some
confusion,
I'll gladly show him soon the light.
The gardener knows
that flowers in profusion
And fruit adorn his trees when all is ripe.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What will you bet? You'll lose, you
know,
If me you give permission
To lead him where he longs to go.
THE LORD
As long as he's on earth alive,
So long
it's not to you forbidden.
Men must err as long as they still strive.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I thank you, Lord. I've never kept it hidden
That once they're dead I keep my distance,
It's rosy cheeks I love in
every instance.
I'm not at home to corpses in my house,
I like to play
the game of cat and mouse.
THE LORD
All right, I give you leave to try
it.
Seduce that spirit from its primal source
And guide it, should you
find a way to beguile it,
Along the fearsome pitfalls of your
course;
And stand disgraced when finally you admit:
A good man, in
spite of iniquity's force,
Will find the path to truth before he's
quit.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Done! It won't take very long.
I have no
doubt that I will win the bet,
And when I do, please don't forget the
debt,
Allow my triumph its rightful measure.
Dust shall he eat, and
with pleasure,
Just like the serpent, my celebrated pet.
THE LORD
Even that you're free to try.
Your kind and
you I've never hated,
Of all the spirits who me deny,
The rogue by me
the least is rated.
The deeds of men are easily put to sleep,
They
love their undisturb�d rest.
That's why I give them over to his
keep,
Who as the devil puts them to the test.
But you, true sons of
God, enjoy
The living wealth of beauty's joy.
Let Being -- active and
alive forever --
Embrace you in love's delightful folds.
Make fast the
things that swerve and sever
With thought that steadfast holds.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I enjoy seeing the Old One now and then
To
make sure our rapport is never broken.
It's damned decent of Himself once
again
In person with the Devil to have spoken.
Translation from the German: Frank Thomas Smith