少年维特的烦恼 英文版 The Sorrows of Young Werther
歌德 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
JANUARY 20.
I must write to you from this place, my dear Charlotte, from asmall room in a country inn, where I have taken shelter from asevere storm. During my whole residence in that wretched placeD--, where I lived amongst strangers, -- strangers, indeed, tothis heart, -- I never at any time felt the smallest inclinationto correspond with you; but in this cottage, in this retirement,in this solitude, with the snow and hail beating against mylattice-pane, you are my first thought. The instant I entered,your figure rose up before me, and the remembrance! O my Charlotte,the sacred, tender remembrance! Gracious Heaven! restore to methe happy moment of our first acquaintance.
Could you but see me, my dear Charlotte, in the whirl ofdissipation, -- how my senses are dried up, but my heart is at notime full. I enjoy no single moment of happiness: all is vain --nothing touches me. I stand, as it were, before the raree-show:I see the little puppets move, and I ask whether it is not anoptical illusion. I am amused with these puppets, or, rather, Iam myself one of them: but, when I sometimes grasp my neighbour'shand, I feel that it is not natural; and I withdraw mine with ashudder. In the evening I say I will enjoy the next morning'ssunrise, and yet I remain in bed: in the day I promise to rambleby moonlight; and I, nevertheless, remain at home. I know not whyI rise, nor why I go to sleep.
The leaven which animated my existence is gone: the charm whichcheered me in the gloom of night, and aroused me from my morningslumbers, is for ever fled.
I have found but one being here to interest me, a Miss B--. Sheresembles you, my dear Charlotte, if any one can possibly resembleyou. "Ah!" you will say, "he has learned how to pay fine compliments."And this is partly true. I have been very agreeable lately, asit was not in my power to be otherwise. I have, moreover, a dealof wit: and the ladies say that no one understands flattery better,or falsehoods you will add; since the one accomplishment invariablyaccompanies the other. But I must tell you of Miss B--. She hasabundance of soul, which flashes from her deep blue eyes. Herrank is a torment to her, and satisfies no one desire of her heart.She would gladly retire from this whirl of fashion, and we oftenpicture to ourselves a life of undisturbed happiness in distantscenes of rural retirement: and then we speak of you, my dearCharlotte; for she knows you, and renders homage to your merits;but her homage is not exacted, but voluntary, she loves you, anddelights to hear you made the subject of conversation.
Oh, that I were sitting at your feet in your favourite little room,with the dear children playing around us! If they became troublesometo you, I would tell them some appalling goblin story; and theywould crowd round me with silent attention. The sun is settingin glory; his last rays are shining on the snow, which covers theface of the country: the storm is over, and I must return to mydungeon. Adieu!-- Is Albert with you? and what is he to you? Godforgive the question.