Swans

Gillray, Mrs Jones of Swansea, 1809
Gillray, Mrs Jones of Swansea, 1809

Der Schwan:
Auf den Wassern wohnt mein stilles Leben,  
Zieht nur gleiche Kreise, die verschweben,  
Und mir schwindet nie im feuchten Spiegel  
Der gebogne Hals und die Gestalt.  

Der Adler:
Ich haus in den felsigen Klüften,  
Ich braus in den stürmenden Lüften,  
Vertrauend dem schlagenden Flügel  
Bei Jagd, bei Kampf und Gewalt.  

The swan:
My quiet life is lived on the waters,
Always drawing circles of the same size, which dissolve,
And in the damp mirror, for me there is never any disappearance
Of my arching kneck or my face.
 
The eagle:
I have set up home in the rocky crevices,
I race in the stormy winds,
Trusting in my beating wings
When hunting, in battle and when using force.

Schlegel, Lebens-Melodien  D 395

These are the first two of fourteen stanzas of dialogue between a swan and an eagle, making up the first part of a strange text called ‘Melodies of Life’. The voices of the two majestic birds (the swan calmly circling on the water and the eagle soaring in the air) then give way to the more domestic chirruping of a pair of doves hidden in the trees and bushes. August Wilhelm Schelling wrote Lebens-Melodien in 1797 soon after he had settled in Jena and as he was establishing the circle of writers and philosophers who would come to be known as the German Romantics.

The swan and the eagle belong in their own domains and they are voices of nature. They live out their lives in accordance with their own natures (their proclivities) and within their established ecological niches. Yet they are also enormously important figures in human culture. When Leda made love to a swan she was embracing Jove himself, and when Jove was metamorphosed into an eagle he swooped down to embrace and transport Ganymede, the wine bearer of Olympus.

Der Schwan:
Von der sel'gen Götterkraft durchdrungen,
Hab' ich mich um Leda's Schoß geschlungen;
Schmeichelnd drückten mich die zarten Hände
Als ihr Sinn in Wonne sich verlor.

Der Adler:
Ich kam aus den Wolken geschossen,
Entriß ihn den blöden Genossen:
Ich trug in den Klauen behende
Zum Olymp Ganymeden empor.

The swan:
Permeated with the blessed strength of the gods
I wrapped myself around Leda's lap;
Her tender hands pressed me flatteringly
When she lost her reason in bliss.

The eagle:
I came shooting forth from the clouds,
I snatched up that simple companion;
In my agile talons I carried
Ganymede up to Olympus.

Schlegel, Lebens-Melodien  D 395

One of the central tenets of Jena Romanticism (partly derived from the philosophy of Kant) is that human beings cannot simply observe the natural world ‘as it is’ or ‘in itself’. Our very act of observation is a sort of involvement and the experiencing subject has an effect on the external object. We cannot look at a swan without it telling us something about ourselves.

Schlegel’s swan begins by declaring that it lives its ‘quiet life’ on the waters, and indeed we are inclined to think of swans as calm and graceful, gliding effortlessly and silently along. Another part of us knows that this is an illusion, though. Swans are far from silent when defending their brood from attack, and their movement through the water is far more energetic and effortful than the surface image of the gentle glide. Yet there is something about our idea of swans that insists on their silence and grace.

In Schiller’s Die Erwartung (D 159) an impatient lover is waiting for his beloved to join him in a garden and he interprets every faint sound of rustling leaves or tiny insects as her approaching footsteps.

Rief es von ferne nicht leise,
Flüsternden Stimmen gleich?
Nein, der Schwan ist's, der die Kreise
Zieht durch den Silberteich.

Wasn't that someone calling gently from the distance
Like whispering voices?
No, it is the swan, drawing a circle
Through the silver pond.

Here the silent, graceful swan represents the nothingness of disappointment and absence. There is no concern for the swan itself.

In the love poetry of Kosegarten (1758 – 1818) the male speaker associates the beloved female breast with the soft feathers of the swan, thereby transferring all of the conventional associations of calm and grace from the bird to the woman:

Könnt' ich, ach, dich nur umschmiegen
Einen langen Sommertag,
Dir am offnen Busen liegen,
Lauschend deines Herzens Schlag!
Könnt' ich, ach, dich nur umflechten
In den längsten Winternächten,
Eingewiegt in seidnen Traum
Auf des Busens Schwanenflaum.

Oh, if only I could cuddle up around you
One long summer's day,
Lie on your open breast
Listening to the beating of your heart!
Oh, if only I could twine myself around you
On the longest nights of winter,
Lulled into a silken dream,
On the swan-down of your breast.

Kosegarten, Huldigung	D 240

Ich hab ein Mädchen funden
Sanft, edel, deutsch und gut.
Ihr Blick ist mild und glänzend,
Wie Abendsonneglut,
Ihr Haar wie Sommerweben,
Ihr Auge veilchenblau;
Dem Rosenkelch der Lippen
Entquillt Gesang wie Tau.

Ihr Bau ist hoch und herrlich.
Ihr Wuchs wie tief im Hain
Der Birke schlanke Schönheit,
Ihr Busen schwanenrein.
Im hohen Schwanenbusen
Klopft ihr ein edel Herz,
Das kennt nicht Zwang noch Launen,
Nicht freche Lust noch Schmerz.

I have found a girl,
Soft, noble, German and good.
Her look is gentle and shining,
Like the glow of the evening sun,
Her hair like something woven in summer,
Her eyes violet blue.
The pink calyx of her lips
Pours out song like dew.

Her build is tall and majestic.
Her figure is like (in the depths of the grove)
The slim beauty of a birch tree,
Her breast as pure as a swan.
In her high swanly breast
A noble heart beats.
A heart that does not know compulsions or moods,
It knows neither brazen pleasure nor pain.

Kosegarten, Das Finden	D 219

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See also ‘Swan songs’: https://www.schubertsong.uk/text-theme/swan-songs/

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