Tempest and cloud (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

When the primeval 

All-holy Father 

Sows with a tranquil hand 

From clouds, as they roll, 

Bliss-spreading lightenings 

Over the earth, 

Then do I kiss the last 

Hem of his garment, 

While by a childlike awe 

Fill’d is my breast. 

 

For with immortals 

Ne’er may a mortal 

Measure himself. 

If he soar upwards 

And if he touch 

With his forehead the stars, 

Nowhere will rest then 

His insecure feet 

And with him sport 

Tempest and cloud. 

 

Though with firm sinewy 

Limbs he may stand 

On the enduring 

Well-grounded earth, 

All he is ever 

Able to do, 

Is to resemble 

The oak or the vine. 

 

Wherein do gods 

Differ from mortals? 

In that the former 

See endless billows 

Heaving before them; 

Us doth the billow 

Lift up and swallow, 

So that we perish. 

 

Small is the ring 

Enclosing our life, 

And whole generations 

Link themselves firmly 

On to existence’s Chain never-ending. 

 

--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 

The Boundaries of Humanity 

 

Image source: William Blake, Job Confessing His Presumptions to God Who Answers from the Whirlwind, https://bibleartists.wordpress.com/2011/02/05/job/