The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Current Verse: Week 30

Es spriessen mir im Seelensonnenlicht
Des Denkens reife Früchte,
In Selbstbewusstseins Sicherheit
Verwandelt alles Fühlen sich.
Empfinden kann ich freudevoll
Des Herbstes Geisterwachen:
Der Winter wird in mir
Den Seelensommer wecken.

—Rudolf Steiner

Corresponding Verse: Week 23

Es dämpfet herbstlich sich
Der Sinne Reizesstreben;
In Lichtesoffenbarung mischen
Der Nebel dumpfe Schleier sich.
Ich selber schau in Raumesweiten
Des Herbstes Winterschlaf
Der Sommer hat an mich
Sich selber hingegeben.

—Rudolf Steiner

In sunlight of my soul are sprouting now
The ripening fruits of thinking;
To certainty of conscious self
All feeling now transforms itself.
Now I can sense in joyful mood
The autumn spirit waking:
The winter will in me
Wake summer of the soul.

—Tr. Daisy Aldan

Autumnally is dimmed
The sense-drive to enticements;
In light-unfoldings mingle
The misty veilings of the fogs.
I can behold in space expanses
The winter sleep of Fall.
The Summer has surrendered
Its very self to me.

—Tr. Daisy Aldan

A Sunlight in the soul
evokes in me maturing grains of thought;
no feeling but it aims to come of age
in poise of settled consciousness of self;
autumn's reveille* glad I hear begin
winter without but summertime within.

—Tr. Owen Barfield

A touch of autumn now
muffles the lively senses' reach,
over the open face of light
some sober trails of vapour creep;
I, from here gazing outward into space,
behold there autumn's winter-sleep;
summer is gone,
summer has given up herself to me.

—Tr. Owen Barfield

There flourish in the sunlight of my Soul
The ripened fruits of Thinking,
To sureness of Self-consciousness
All Feeling doth transform itself.
I can experience joyfully
The Autumn's Spirit-stirring;
The Winter will in me
Soul-Summertide awaken.

—Tr. Mabel Cotterell

With Autumn grows more dull
The Senses strong attraction,
Within the realm of Light there mingle
The cloudy veils of mistiness;
I now behold in space's distance
The Autumn's winter sleep.
The Summertide to me
Hath now itself surrendered.

—Tr. Mabel Cotterell

In sunlight of my soul spring forth
The ripening fruits of thinking;
And feeling’s flow transforms itself
As conscious self-assurance.
With joy I can perceive
How spirit wakes in fall;
The winter will call forth in me
The summer of my soul.

—Tr. John F. Gardner

Beginning autumn mutes
The senses’ eager questing;
Within light’s revelation
Damp veils of mist are mingling.
Myself, I see abroad in space
Fall’s world-sleep now approaching.
The summer’s life has given
Itself into my keeping.

—Tr. John F. Gardner

Within the sunlight of my soul
Ripe fruits of thought spring forth.
To surety of true self-consciousness
All feeling is transformed.
With joy I can experience
The autumn's Spirit-wakening:
The winter will arouse in me
The summer of the soul.

—Tr. Isabel Grieve

Autumnal vapors hover
Over the magic world of sense;
Within the shining pageant of the light
Mingles a softening veil of mist.
I see afar on fields of space
The wintry sleep of fall;
The summer that is gone
Has given itself to me.

—Tr. Isabel Grieve

In sunlight of my soul
The ripened fruits of thinking spring,
To certainty of Self-awareness
All feeling now transforms itself.
And joyfully I can perceive
The autumn's spirit-waking:
The winter will arouse in me
The summer of the soul.

—Tr. Brigitte Knaack

A touch of autumn dampens
The senses' stimulating urge;
With light's revealing radiance mingle
The hazy veils of mist.
And I behold in the expanse of space
The autumn's winter sleep.
The summer has surrendered
Its very self to me.

—Tr. Brigitte Knaack

Within the sunlight of my soul
Spring ripened fruits of Thinking.
Into the certainty of self-awareness
All feeling now transforms itself,
And I can sense with joy
The Autumn's spirit-wakening.
The Winter will arouse in me
The Summer of the soul.

—Tr. Ernst Lehrs

Into autumnal dimness
The stirring of the senses dies away.
Dim veils of mist now mingle
With revelations of the light;
And I behold in widths of space
The Autumn's winter-sleep.
The Summer has itself
Now yielded up to me.

—Tr. Ernst Lehrs

In sunlight of the soul spring up
The mellow'd fruits of thinking;
To certainty of Self-awareness
All feeling is transformed;
Joyfully I can perceive
The autumn's Spirit wakening.
The winter will arouse in me
The summer of the soul.

—Tr. Liselotte & William Mann

Autumnal haze now dampens down
The senses' animating zest.
In radiant glory of the light
Dull veils of mist are woven.
My Self in width of space beholds
The autumn's winter sleep.
The summer has on me,
Its very self bestowed.

—Tr. Liselotte & William Mann

In the sunlight of my soul
The ripe fruits of thinking
Are springing forth.
In the certainty of self-consciousness
All feeling transforms itself.
Filled with joy!
I am now able
To feel the fall spirit awaken
within me:
Winter will awaken
The summer of my soul.

—Tr. Tom Mellett

Autumn now subdues
My senses' strivings for enchantment.
A stifling, hazy mist swirls
Within the revelation of the light.
I myself look into the wide expanse of space,
And see the winter-sleep of fall.
Summer has surrendered itself
entirely to me.

—Tr. Tom Mellett

There flourish in the sunlight of my soul
The ripened fruits of thinking;
To conscious self-assurance
The flow of feeling is transformed.
I can perceive now joyfully
The autumn's spirit-waking:
The winter will arouse in me
The summer of the soul.

—Tr. Ruth & Hans Pusch

There dims in damp autumnal air
The senses' luring magic;
The light's revealing radiance
Is dulled by hazy veils of mist.
In distances around me I can see
The autumn's winter sleep;
The summer's life has yielded
Itself into my keeping.

—Tr. Ruth & Hans Pusch

By sprouting me in soul’s sunny light
As the ripe fruit of thinking,
In the certainty of self-awareness
All feelings are transformed.
With joy I can perceive
Autumn’s spirit-awakening:
Winter will wake in me
The summer of my soul.

—Tr. John Riedel MD

Pursuits of pleasure fade and dim
As autumn weather ushers in;
Into offerings of light are mixed
The veil-like mists of fall.
I myself shall take the stage
In autumn’s hibernating space.
Summer’s hold upon the field
Is given over to me.

—Tr. John Riedel MD