Poems Dedicated to Jenny von Westphalen

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This section contains several poems from Marx’s three albums of poems written in the late autumn of 1836 and in the winter of 1836-37. According to his daughter Laura Lafargue and his biographer Franz Mehring, who had access to his manuscripts after his death, two of these albumn bore the title Book of Love, Part I and Part II, and the third, Book of Songs. Each had the following dedication: “To my dear, ever beloved Jenny von Westphalen.” The covers of the albums were later included by Marx in his book of verse dedicated to his father. Recently a copybook and a notebook belonging to Karl Marx’s eldest sister Sophie were discovered among the documents of Heinrich Marx’s heirs in Trier. Alongside verses by different people they contain some by the young Marx. Most of them were taken from other copybooks, but some were new. Marx was very critical of the literary qualities of his early poems but he believed that they conveyed his warm and sincere feelings. Later on, his view of them grew even more critical. Laura Lafargue, for example, wrote, “My father treated his verses very disrepectfully; whenever my parents mentioned them, they would laugh to their heart’ content.” (Note from MECW, 1975)

Concluding Sonnets to Jenny

This album contains 12 poems of which the ballads “Lucinda,” “Distraught” and “The Pale Maiden,” and the poem “Human Pride” were later included by Marx in the book of verse dedicated to his father.

I

Take all, take all these songs from me

That Love at your feet humbly lays,

Where, in the Lyre’s full melody,

Soul freely nears in shining rays.

Oh! if Song’s echo potent be

To stir to longing with sweet lays,

To make the pulse throb passionately

That your proud heart sublimely sways,

Then shall I witness from afar

How Victory bears you light along,

Then shall I fight, more bold by far,

Then shall my music soar the higher;

Transformed, more free shall ring my song,

And in sweet woe shall weep my Lyre.

II

To me, no Fame terrestrial

That travels far through land and nation

To hold them thrillingly in thrall

With its far-flung reverberation

Is worth your eyes, when shining full,

Your heart, when warm with exultation,

Or two deep-welling tears that fall,

Wrung from your eyes by song’s emotion.

Gladly I'd breathe my Soul away

In the Lyre’s deep melodious sighs,

And would a very Master die,

Could I the exalted goal attain,

Could I but win the fairest prize —

To soothe in you both joy and pain.

III

Ah! Now these pages forth may fly,

Approach you, trembling, once again,

My spirits lowered utterly

By foolish fears and parting’s pain.

My self-deluding fancies stray

Along the boldest paths in vain;

I cannot win what is most High,

And soon no more hope shall remain.

When I return from distant places

To that dear home, filled with desire,

A spouse holds you in his embraces,

And clasps you proudly, Fairest One.

Then o'er me rolls the lightning’s fire

Of misery and oblivion.

IV

Forgive that, boldly risking scorn

The Soul’s deep yearning to confess,

The singer’s lips must hotly burn

To waft the flames of his distress.

Can I against myself then turn

And lose myself, dumb, comfortless,

The very name of singer spurn,

Not love you, having seen your face?

So high the Soul’s illusions aspire,

O'er me you stand magnificent;

’tis but your tears that I desire,

And that my songs you only enjoyed

To lend them grace and ornament;

Then may they flee into the Void!

To Jenny

This album is the bulkiest of the three dedicated to Jenny von Westphalen. It contains 53 poems of which “Yearning,” “Siren Song,” “Two Singers Accompanying Themselves on the Harp” and “Harmony” were included by Marx in the book of verse dedicated to his father.

I

Words — lies, hollow shadows, nothing more,

Crowding Life from all sides round!

In you, dead and tired, must I outpour

Spirits that in me abound?

Yet Earth’s envious Gods have scanned before

Human fire with gaze profound;

And forever must the Earthling poor

Mate his bosom’s glow with sound.

For, if passion leaped up, vibrant, bold,

In the Soul’s sweet radiance,

Daringly it would your worlds enfold,

Would dethrone you, would bring you down low,

Would outsoar the Zephyr-dance.

Ripe a world above you then would grow.

To Jenny

I

Jenny! Teasingly you may inquire

Why my songs “To Jenny” I address,

When for you alone my pulse beats higher,

When my songs for you alone despair,

When you only can their heart inspire,

When your name each syllable must confess,

When you lend each note melodiousness,

When no breath would stray from the Goddess?

’tis because so sweet the dear name sounds,

And its cadence says so much to me,

And so full, so sonorous it resounds,

Like to vibrant Spirits in the distance,

Like the gold-stringed Cithern’s harmony,

Like some wondrous, magical existence.

II

See! I could a thousand volumes fill,

Writing only “Jenny” in each line,

Still they would a world of thought conceal,

Deed eternal and unchanging Will,

Verses sweet that yearning gently still,

All the glow and all the Aether’s shine,

Anguished sorrow’s pain and joy divine,

All of Life and Knowledge that is mine.

I can read it in the stars up younder,

From the Zephyr it comes back to me,

From the being of the wild waves’ thunder.

Truly, I would write it down as a refrain,

For the coming centuries to see —

LOVE IS JENNY, JENNY IS LOVE’s NAME.

My World

Worlds my longing cannot ever still,

Nor yet Gods with magic blest;

Higher than them all is my own Will,

Stormily wakeful in my breast.

Drank I all the stars’ bright radiance,

All the light by suns o'erspilled,

Still my pains would want for recompense,

And my dreams be unfulfilled.

Hence! To endless battle, to the striving

Like a Talisman out there,

Demon-wise into the far mists driving

Towards a goal I cannot near.

But it’s only ruins and dead stones

That encompass all my yearning,

Where in shimmering

Heavenly radiance

All my hopes flow, ever-burning.

They are nothing more than narrow rooms

Ringed by timid people round,

Where it stands, the frontier of my dreams,

Where my hopes reach journey’s end.

Jenny, can you ask what my words say,

And what meaning hides within?

Ah! ‘Twere useless to speak anyway,

Futile even to begin.

Look into those eyes of yours so bright,

Deeper than the floor of Heaven,

Clearer than the sun’s own beaming light,

And the answer shall be given.

Dare to joy in life and being fair,

Only press your own white hand;

You yourself shall find the answer there,

Know my distant Heaven-land.

Ah! When your lips only breathed to me,

Only one warm word to say,

Then I dived into mad ecstasy,

Helpless I was swept away.

Ha! In nerve and spirit I was stricken,

To the bottom of my soul,

As a Demon, when the High Magician

Strikes with lightning bolt and spell.

Yet why should words try to force in vain,

Being sound and misty pall,

What is infinite, like yearning’s pain,

Like yourself, and like the All.

Feelings

Never can I do in peace

That with which my Soul’s obsessed,

Never take things at my ease;

I must press on without rest.

Others only know elation

When things go their peaceful way,

Free with self-congratulation,

Giving thanks each time they pray.

I am caught in endless strife,

Endless ferment, endless dream;

I cannot conform to Life,

Will not travel with the stream.

Heaven I would comprehend,

I would draw the world to me;

Loving, hating, I intend

That my star shine brilliantly.

All things I would strive to win,

All the blessings Gods impart,

Grasp all knowledge deep within,

Plumb the depths of Song and Art.

Worlds I would destroy for ever,

Since I can create no world,

Since my call they notice never,

Coursing dumb in magic whirl.

Dead and dumb, they stare away

At our deeds with scorn up yonder;

We and all our works decay --

Heedless on their ways they wander.

Yet their lot I would share never --

Swept on by the flooding tide,

On through nothing rushing ever,

Fretful in their Pomp and Pride.

Swiftly fall and are destroyed

Halls and bastions in their turn;

As they fly into the Void,

Yet another Empire’s born.

So it rolls from year to year,

From the Nothing to the All,

From the Cradle to the Bier,

Endless Rise and endless Fall.

So the spirits go their way

Till they are consumed outright,

Till their Lords and Masters they

Totally annihilate.

Then let us traverse with daring

That predestined God-drawn ring,

Joy and Sorrow fully sharing

As the scales of Fortune swing.

Therefore let us risk our all,

Never resting, never tiring;

Not in silence dismal, dull,

Without action or desiring;

Not in brooding introspection

Bowed beneath a yoke of pain,

So that yearning, dream and action

Unfulfilled to us remain.

Transformations

Mine eyes are so confused,

My cheek it is so pale,

My head is so bemused,

A realm of fairy-tale.

I wanted, boldly daring,

Sea-going ways to follow,

Where a thousand crags rise soaring,

And Floods flow bleak and hollow.

I clung to Thought high-soaring,

On its two wings did ride,

And though storm winds were roaring,

All danger I defied.

I did not falter there,

But ever on did press

With the wild eagle’s stare

On journeys limitless.

And though the Siren spins

Her music so endearing

Whereby the heart she wins --

I gave that sound no hearing.

I turned away mine ear

From the sweet sounds I heard,

My bosom did aspire

To a loftier reward.

Alas, the waves sped on,

At rest they would not be;

There swept by many a one

Too swift for me to see.

With magic power and word

I cast what spells I knew,

But forth the waves still roared,

Till they were gone from view.

And by the Flood sore pressed,

And dizzy at the sight,

I tumbled from that host

Into the misty night.

And when I rose again

From fruitless toil at last,

My powers all were gone,

And all the heart’s glow lost

And trembling, pale, I long

Gazed into my own breast;

By no uplifiting song

Was my affliction blessed.

My songs were flown, alack;

The sweetest Art was gone --

No God would give it back

Nor Grace of Deathless One.

The Fortress had sunk down

That once so bold did stand;

The fiery glow was drowned,

Void was the bosom’s land.

Then shone your radiance,

The purest light of soul,

Where in a changing dance

Round Earth the Heavens roll.

Then was I captive bound,

Then was my vision clear,

For I had truly found

What my dark strivings were.

Soul rang more strong, more free,

Out of the deep-stirred breast

In triumph heavenly,

And in sheer happiness.

My spirits then and there

Soared, jubilant and gay,

And, like a sorcerer,

Their courses did I sway.

I left the waves that rush,

The floods that change and flow,

On the high cliff to crash,

But saved the inner glow.

And what my Soul, Fate-driven

Never in flight o'ertook,

That to my heart was given,

Was granted by your look.