Walden, opus 123 (2008)       

Texts excerpted from Henry David Thoreau's WALDEN.


I.  Economy. 

“When I wrote the following pages, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from my neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts.  There I lived two years and two months. 

Near the end of March 1845, I borrowed an axe and went down to Walden Pond, nearest to where I intended to build my house, and began to cut down some tall, arrowy white pines, still in their youth, for timber.  It was a pleasant hillside where I worked, covered with pine-woods, through which I looked out on the pond.  The ice on the pond was not yet dissolved, though there were some open spaces, and it was all dark-colored and saturated with water.

They were pleasant spring days, in which the winter of man’s discontent was thawing as well as the earth, and life that had lain torpid began to stretch itself.  By the middle of April my house was framed and ready for the raising. I dug my cellar in the side of a hill sloping to the south, down through sumach and blackberry roots, and the lowest stain of vegetation, six feet square by seven deep, to a fine sand where potatoes would not freeze in any winter. The sides were left shelving, and not stoned; but the sun having never shone on them, the sand still keeps its place. It was but two hour’s work. I took particular pleasure in this breaking of ground, for in almost all latitudes men dig into the earth for an equable temperature. 

At length, in the beginning of May, I set up the frame of my house.  I began to occupy my house on the 4th of July, as soon as it was boarded and roofed.
Before winter I built a chimney, and shingled the sides of my house, which were already impervious to rain. I have thus a tight shingled and plastered house, ten feet wide by fifteen long, and eight-feet posts, with a garret and a closet, a large window on each side, two trap-doors, one door at the end, and a brick fireplace opposite.  The exact cost of my house, paying the usual price for such materials as I used, but not counting the work, all of which was done by myself, was as follows:

Boards                                                      $8 03 ½, mostly shanty boards
Refuse shingles for roof and sides             $4 00
Laths                                                         $1 25
Two second-hand windows with glass      $2 43
One thousand old bricks                           $4 00
Two casks of lime                                     $2 40    That was high.
Hair                                                          $0 31    More than I needed.
Mantle-tree iron                                        $0 15
Nails                                                         $3 90
Hinges and screws                                   $0 14
Latch                                                        $0 10
Chalk                                                        $0 01
Transportation                                          $1 40    I carried a good part on my back.

In all                                                         $28 12 ½”

II.  Sounds. 

First instrumental interlude: Thoreau describes the sounds around the pond – both natural and man-made.  He writes, “The Fitchburg Railroad touches the pond about a hundred rods south of where I dwell … The whistle of the locomotive penetrates my woods summer and winter, sounding like the scream of a hawk … ”

III.  Solitude.

“This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense, and imbibes delight through every pore.  I go and come with a strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself.  As I walked along the stony shore of the pond in my shirtsleeves, though it is cool as well as cloudy and windy, and I see nothing special to attract me, all the elements are unusually congenial to me.  The bullfrogs trump to usher in the night, and the note of the whip-poor-will is borne on the rippling wind from over the water.

Though it is now dark, the wind still blows and roars in the wood, the waves still dash, and some creatures lull the rest with their notes.  The repose is never complete.  The wildest animals do not repose, but seek their prey now; the fox, the skunk, the rabbit, now roam the fields and woods without fear.  They are Nature’s watchmen, --- links which connect the days of animated life.”

IV.  The Village. 

Second instrumental interlude: Thoreau writes, “Every day or two I strolled to the village to hear some of the gossip which is incessantly going on there, circulating from mouth to mouth, or from newspaper to newspaper, and which, taken in homeopathic doses, was really as refreshing in its way as the rustle of leaves and the peeping of frogs.”  “It was very pleasant, when I stayed in town, to launch myself into the night, especially if it was dark and tempestuous, and set sail from some bright village parlor or lecture room, … ”

V.  Brute Neighbors.

“I was witness to events of a less peaceful character.  One day when I went out to my wood pile, or rather my pile of stumps, I observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another.  Looking farther, I was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants, that it was not a duellum, but bellum, a war between two races of ants; internecine war; the red republicans on the one hand, and the black imperialists on the other.

I watched a couple that were fast locked in each other’s embrace, in a little sunny valley amid the chips, now at noonday prepared to fight till the sun went down, or life went out.   They fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs.  Neither manifested the least disposition to retreat.  It was evident that their battle-cry was “Conquer or die.”

In the meanwhile there came along a single red ant on the hillside of this valley, evidently full of excitement.  He saw this unequal combat from afar, ---for the blacks were nearly twice the size of the reds, ---he drew near with rapid pace till he stood on his guard within half an inch of the combatants; then, watching his opportunity, he sprang upon the black warrior, and commenced his operation near the root of his right fore legs; and so there were three united for life, as if a new kind of attraction had been invented which put all other locks and cements to shame. 

I should not have wondered by this time to find that they had their respective musical bands stationed on some eminent chip, and playing their national airs the while, to excite the slow and cheer the dying combatants.  I was myself excited somewhat even as if they had been men.  The more you think of it, the less the difference.  And certainly there is not the fight recorded in Concord history, at least, if in the history of America, that will bear a moment’s comparison with this, whether for the numbers engaged in it, or for the patriotism and heroism displayed.”

VI.  The Pond in Winter. 

Third instrumental interlude: Thoreau writes, “Ah, the pickerel of Walden! when I see them lying on the ice, or in the well which the fisherman cuts in the ice, making a little hole to admit the water. I am always surprised by their rare beauty, as if they were fabulous fishes, they are so foreign to the streets, even to the woods, foreign as Arabia to our Concord life.  They possess a quite dazzling and transcendent beauty which separates them by a wide interval from cadaverous cod and haddock whose fame is trumpeted in our streets.  They are not green like the pines, nor gray like the stones, nor blue like the sky; but they have, to my eyes, if possible, yet rarer colors, like flowers and precious stones, as if they were pearls, the animalized nuclei or crystal of the Walden water.  They, of course, are Walden all over and all through; are themselves small Waldens in the animal kingdom, Waldenses.“

VII.  Conclusion.

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.  He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him, or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with a license of a higher order of beings.  In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness.  If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be.  Now put a foundation under them.”

Mechthild von Magdeburg: Minnelieder an got (2005)

From “Das Fließende Licht der Gottheit” by Mechthild von Magdeburg (ca. 1210-1282)

ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY MICHAEL  RESLER

I.    Prayer

Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast gesuchet mit diner demutekeit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have sought us out in your humility.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast behalten mit diner barmeherzekeit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have harbored us with your mercy.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast geheret mit diner [güete.]
We praise you, Lord, that you have glorified us with your kindness.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast gefuoret mit diner miltekeit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have nourished us with your bounty.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast geordent mit diner wisheit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have instructed us with your wisdom.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast beschirmet mit diner gewalt.
We praise you, Lord, that you have sheltered us with your might.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast gehelget mit diner edelkeit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have sanctified us with your grandeur.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast gewiset mit diner heimlichkeit.
We praise you, Lord, that you have shown us the path with your intimacy.
Wir loben dich, herre, das du úns hast gehoehet mit diner minne.
We praise you, Lord, that you have ennobled us with your love.

II.   Recitative

Seiest wilkomen, liebú tube,
Welcome, precious dove,
Du hast so sere geflogen in dem ertriche,
So far and wide have you flown in this earthly realm
Das dine vedern sint gewahsen in das himelriche.
that your feathers have expanded into the kingdom of heaven.
Du smekest als ein wintrúbel,
Your taste is that of a grape from the vineyard,
Du rúchest als ein balsam,
Your fragrance is that of balsam,
Du lúhtest als dú sunne,
You shimmer as does the sun,
Du bist ein zuonemunge miner hoehsten minne.
You are the increase of my most exalted love.

III.   Aria

O du giessender got an diner gabe,
O you God who spills over with your gifts,
O du vliessender got an diner minne,
O you God who flows with your love,
O du brennender got an diner gerunge,
O you God who burns with your desire,
O du smelzender got an der einunge mit dinem liebe,
O you God who melts in the union with your beloved,
O du ruowender got minen brústen!
O you God who finds repose on my breasts!
Ane dich ich nút wesen mag!
Without you I cannot live on!

O du schoene rose in dem dorne,
O you rose lovely amongst the thorns,
O du vliegendes bini in dem honge,
O you bee darting about in the honey,
O du reinú tube an dinem wesende,
O you dove pure in your essence,
O du schoenú sunne an dinem schine,
O you sun lovely in your radiance,
O du voller mane an dinem stande!
O you full moon in your grandeur!
Ich mag mich nit von dir gekeren.
From you I cannot turn aside.

IV.   Chorale

In der groesten sterki kumt si von ir selber,
In the greatest strength she loses herself,
In dem schoensten liehte ist si blint an ir selber
In the loveliest light she is blind even to herself,
Und in der groesten blintheit sihet si allerklarost.
And in the greatest blindness she sees most clearly.
In der groesten klarheit ist si beide tot und lebende.
In the most boundless clarity she is both living and dead.

V.   Meditation

Ie si langer tot ist, ie si vroelicher lebt;
The longer she is dead, the more joyously she lives;
Ie si vroelicher lebt, ie si mer ervert;
The more joyously she lives, the more she embraces;
Ie si minner wirt, ie ir mer zuoflússet;
The more she withers, the more flows to her;
Ie si sich mere vorhtet.
The more she lives in fear.
Ie si richer wirt, ie si armer ist;
The more wealth she accrues, the more destitute she is;
Ie si tieffer wonet, ie si breiter ist;
The more basely she dwells, the more expansive she is;
Ie si gebietiger ist.
The greater is her dominion.
Ie si me arbeitet, ie si sanfter ruowet;
The more she toils, the more gently does she find rest;
Ie si me begriffet.
The more she comprehends.
Ie sin lust me wahset,
The more his longing grows,
Ie ir [hochzit] groesser wirt;
The more bounteous their festival becomes;
Ie das minnebet enger wirt,
The more cramped the love-bed becomes,
Ie die umbehalsunge naher gat;
The more intimate the embrace;
Ie das muntkússen suesser smekket,
The sweeter the taste of their lips,
Ie si sich minneclicher ansehent;
The more lovingly do they behold one another;

Ie si sich noeter scheident,
The more anguished is their parting,
Ie mer er ir gibet;
The more abundant is his gift to her;
Ie me si verzert, ie me si hat;
The more she consumes, the more she does have;
Ie si demueteklicher urlop nimt,
The more humbly she takes her leave,
Ie e si wider kumt;
The sooner does she return;
Ie si heisser blibet,
The more ardent she remains,
Ie si e entfunket;
The sooner does she break out in flames;
Ie si mere brennet, ie si schoener lúhtet;
The more she burns, the more splendidly does she glimmer;
Ie gottes lob mer gebreitet wirt,
The more widespread God’s praise is made,
Ie ir girheit groesser blibet.
The more fervent remains her longing.

Mass for the Holy Year 2000

IX.    AGNUS DEI

    Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
    Dona nobis pacem.