The Poetry Corner

The Chosen Cliff.

By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Here in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one; Gladly he spake to me thus: "Be thou my witness, thou stone! Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions; Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell, Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, as onward I ramble, 'Be thou a sign of my bliss!' shout I, and then 'tis ordain'd. Yet to thee only I lend a voice, as a Muse from the people Chooseth one for herself, kissing his lips as a friend."