Boats and ships

William Anderson, Deptford 1820s
William Anderson, Deptford 1820s
Ich treibe auf des Lebens Meer,
Ich sitze gemut in meinem Kahn,
Nicht Ziel noch Steuer, hin und her
Wie die Strömung reißt, wie die Winde gahn.

I am drifting on the sea of life,
I am sitting contentedly in my boat
I have neither destination nor rudder to steer the boat as I go here and there
As the current flows, as the winds blow.

Senn, Selige Welt	D743

We are all in a boat on the sea of life, but we are not all drifters. At times riding the waves requires resolve and superhuman effort:

Im Winde, im Sturme befahr ich den Fluss, 
Die Kleider durchweichet der Regen im Guss. 
Ich peitsche die Wellen mit mächtigem Schlag 
Erhoffend, erhoffend mir heiteren Tag.  

Die Wellen, sie jagen das ächzende Schiff, 
Es drohet der Strudel, es drohet der Riff, 
Gesteine entkollern den felsigen Höhn, 
Und Tannen erseufzen wie Geistergestöhn.  

So musste es kommen, ich hab es gewollt, 
Ich hasse ein Leben behaglich entrollt,
Und schlängen die Wellen den ächzenden Kahn, 
Ich priese doch immer die eigene Bahn.  

Drum tose des Wassers ohnmächtiger Zorn, 
Dem Herzen entquillet ein seliger Born, 
Die Nerven erfrischend, o himmliche Lust! 
Dem Sturme zu trotzen mit männlicher Brust.

In the wind and in storms I travel on the river,
My clothes get soaked through as the rain pours down;
I beat the waves with powerful strokes
Hoping, hoping that I will experience a calmer day.

The waves drive the creaking ship,
The whirlpool threatens, the reef threatens,
Rocks tumble down from the towering cliffs
And fir trees sigh with a ghostly moan.

It had to come to this - it is what I wanted;
I hate a life that unfurls too comfortably;
And if the waves were to swallow this creaking boat
I would still always sing the praises of my own course.

Therefore let the water's powerless rage continue to roar,
Happiness is welling up and pouring from my heart,
Refreshing the nerves - oh heavenly delight!
Defying the storm with a human breast.

Mayrhofer, Der Schiffer	D 536

Sometimes, however, despite all our efforts, we fear that the boat might sink:

Auf der Wellen Spiegel 
Schwimmt der Kahn. 
Alte Burgen ragen 
Himmelan; 
Tannenwälder rauschen 
Geistergleich - 
Und das Herz im Busen 
Wird uns weich.  

Denn der Menschen Werke 
Sinken all'; 
Wo ist Turm, wo Pforte, 
Wo der Wall, 
Wo sie selbst, die Starken,
Erzgeschirmt, 
Die in Krieg und Jagden 
Hingestürmt? 

Trauriges Gestrüppe 
Wuchert fort, 
Während frommer Sage 
Kraft verdorrt. 
Und im kleinen Kahne 
Wird uns bang - 
Wellen drohn, wie Zeiten, 
Untergang.

On the mirror of waves
Swims the boat.
Old castles reach up
Towards the sky;
Forests of fir trees rustle
Like ghosts - 
And the hearts in our breasts
Become soft.

For the things produced by humans
All sink;
Where is the tower, where the gate, 
Where the rampart,
Where are they themselves, those strong men?
Those who were protected by armour
And went to war and went hunting,
Going on the attack.

Sad undergrowth
Is growing rampant,
Whilst pious legends'
Power withers away.
And in this small boat
We become anxious - 
Both the waves and time threaten us with
Ruin.

Mayrhofer, Auf der Donau	D553

Mayrhofer probably wrote Auf der Donau (On the Danube) in 1817, a year after his friend Schubert had composed a setting of a text by Goethe dealing with the same themes (the passage of time and the fragility of humans on their journey along the river of life). Goethe’s Geistes-Gruß was written on 18th July 1774 on a boat travelling down the river Lahn and out into the Rhine near Koblenz. An old hero looks out from his castle and reflects on his present powerlessness in contrast to his former might, yet on seeing the young men passing by on their boat decides to wish them well as they go on their way. This reflects something of the young Goethe’s youthful confidence as he set out on his own course.

Hoch auf dem alten Turme steht
Des Helden edler Geist,
Der, wie das Schiff vorübergeht,
Es wohl zu fahren heißt.

"Sieh, diese Senne war so stark,
Dies Herz so fest und wild,
Die Knochen voll von Rittermark,
Der Becher angefüllt;

Mein halbes Leben stürmt' ich fort,
Verdehnt' die Hälft' in Ruh,
Und du, du Menschenschifflein dort,
Fahr immer, immer zu."

High on the old tower stands
The noble spirit of a hero,
Who, seeing a ship go past,
Wishes it bon voyage.

"Look, these sinews used to be so strong,
This heart so firm and fierce,
These bones were full of knightly marrow,
My beaker was filled to the brim;

I spent half of my life storming off
And the other half stretching out and resting,
And you, you little human ship there,
Keep going, keep on going!"

Goethe, Geistes-Gruß   	D 142

It is as if the young Goethe, now embarked on his literary boat, is listening to the powerful voices of the past and is deciding not to be intimidated. It is now his turn to ride down the river of life and make of it what he can.

A year after writing Geistes-Gruß Goethe found himself on another boat, this time on a lake rather than a river. The year between July 1774 and June 1775 had seen the publication of ‘The Sorrows of Young Werther’ and propelled the author to international fame. Such was the intensity of the reaction that the young author experienced a sort of crisis. While he was staying with friends in Switzerland he seriously considered crossing the Alps into Italy, but an epiphany on Lake Zurich on 15th June 1775 changed his mind. As his boat crossed the waters of the lake he looked down to the mountains and the stars. He found himself drinking from mother nature and saw a way of uncovering the secrets of life. The reflecting lake had given him access to the distant universe, and probing the roots of the surrounding trees allowed him access to their fruit. From this point on Goethe was to devote as much energy to geology and botany as he did to literature. This boat, unlike the one a year before, was not taking him along a fixed course but was giving him access to the fundamental processes driving the here and now.

Und frische Nahrung, neues Blut 
Saug ich aus freier Welt; 
Wie ist Natur so hold und gut, 
Die mich am Busen hält! 
Die Welle wieget unsern Kahn 
Im Rudertakt hinauf, 
Und Berge, wolkig himmelan, 
Begegnen unserm Lauf.  

Aug, mein Aug, was sinkst du nieder? 
Goldne Träume, kommt ihr wieder? 
Weg, du Traum, so Gold du bist,
Hier auch Lieb und Leben ist.  

Auf der Welle blinken 
Tausend schwebende Sterne, 
Weiche Nebel trinken 
Rings die türmende Ferne; 
Morgenwind umflügelt 
Die beschattete Bucht, 
Und im See bespiegelt 
Sich die reifende Frucht.

And fresh nutrition, new blood,
I suck from this open world;
Nature is so beautiful and good,
Holding me to its breast!
The waves are rocking our boat
With the rhythm of the oars,
And mountains, in clouds reaching up to the sky,
Come to meet us as we make our way.

Eye, my eye, why are you sinking down?
Golden dreams, are you going to return?
Begone, dream! however golden you are;
Here too there is love and life.

Twinkling on the waves
Are a thousand hovering stars,
Gentle mists are drinking
Up the looming distance;
The morning wind is flying around
The shaded bay,
And mirrored in the lake
Is the ripening fruit.

Goethe, Auf dem See	D 543

Thirteen years after this experience on Lake Zurich Goethe did in fact travel to Italy, and it was here that he first sailed on the open sea (rather than a lake or a river). On his return from Sicily to Naples on 13th May 1787 the ship he was on found itself becalmed at the entrance to the Bay of Naples. The poem that he wrote afterwards evokes some of the ominous terror of the passengers and crew, and it widens out to connect with more general experiences of depression and a total lack of ‘inspiration’. This monstrous stillness is the opposite of ‘drifting’.

Tiefe Stille herrscht im Wasser,
Ohne Regung ruht das Meer,
Und bekümmert sieht der Schiffer
Glatte Fläche rings umher.

Keine Luft von keiner Seite!
Todesstille fürchterlich!
In der ungeheuren Weite
Reget keine Welle sich.

A deep calm holds sway in the water,
The sea is at rest, motionless,
And the sailor looks out anxiously and sees
A flat expanse all around.

No air from any direction!
A terrible, deathly silence!
In the monstrous breadth
Not a single wave stirs.

Goethe, Meeres Stille		D 215A, D 216

So, we are not all always in the same boat. Sometimes the boat is an image of our progress through life, sometimes it allows us to reflect, and at other times it puts as at risk (either of drowning or stagnation).

Sometimes the same boat can be put to different uses. An ordinary fishing boat can be used for fishing (Fischerlied, D 351 D 364 D 562; Fischerweise, D 881) or for loving (Des Fischers Liebesglück, D 933). A transport ship can carry crusaders to and from the Holy Land (Ritter Toggenburg, D 397; Der Kreuzzug, D 932) or it can become a murder scene (Der Zwerg, D 771). Boats can reach harbour (An Mignon, D 161) or set off into the unknown (Auf dem Strom, D 943).

On the metaphorical level boats symbolise both proximity and distance. They speak of our inner journeys, our determination, our hopes and fears. When Mignon sees boats arriving at their destination so regularly (D 161), this only serves to accentuate her own lack of movement and direction. For Leitner, though, a boat represents hope, bobbing on a lake of tears (Das Weinen, D 926). Similarly for Schiller, when we are trapped in a valley of despair, we need to entrust ourselves to the single boat that, with our faith and daring, offers passage across to the land of dreams.

Ach, aus dieses Tales Gründen,
     Die der kalte Nebel drückt,
Könnt ich doch den Ausgang finden,
     Ach, wie fühlt' ich mich beglückt.
Dort erblick ich schöne Hügel,
     Ewig jung und ewig grün,
Hätt' ich Schwingen, hätt ich Flügel,
     Nach den Hügeln zög ich hin.

* * *

Ach wie schön muss sich's ergehen
     Dort im ew'gen Sonnenschein,
Und die Luft auf jenen Höhen,
     O wie labend muss sie sein.
Doch mir wehrt des Stromes Toben,
     Der ergrimmt dazwischen braust,
Seine Wellen sind gehoben,
     Dass die Seele mir ergraust.

Einen Nachen seh ich schwanken,
     Aber ach! der Fährmann fehlt.
Frisch hinein und ohne Wanken,
     Seine Segel sind beseelt.
Du musst glauben, du musst wagen,
     Denn die Götter leihn kein Pfand,
Nur ein Wunder kann dich tragen
     In das schöne Wunderland.

Oh, to get out of the bottom of this valley
Filled with cold mist;
If only I could find the way out
How happy I would feel!
I can make out beautiful hills over there,
Forever young and forever green.
If only I had wings; if only I could fly,
I would set off for those hills.

* * *

Oh how lovely it must be to stroll
There in the eternal sunshine;
And the air on those heights,
How refreshing it must be!
But I am hindered by the raging stream
That angrily roars and blocks my way.
Its waves are raised so high
That my soul is horrified.

I can see a boat rocking.
But oh! There is no ferry man.
Get in quick, don’t delay.
Its sails are hoisted.
You have to believe, you have to dare,
For the gods do not offer any security.
Only a miracle can convey you
To that beautiful land of wonders.

Schiller, Sehnsucht	D 52, D 636

☙

Descendant of: 

WATER   MOVEMENT  


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