Heinrich Page #6

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everybody knows us

je ne comprends rien du tout

il dit que nous sommes des officiers

de l'arme prussienne

que c'est notre ville,

Berlin

et que pour cette raison,

nous n'avons pas de passport

c'tait jamais ncessaire

d'avoir un passport pour nous

vour parlez bien franais

trop bien pour un officier

de l'arme prussienne

il dit qu'il est prussien

mais il parle franais come un Parisien

en plus ils n'ont pas de passports,

parles-leurs

I speak a bit German

you speak German with me

are you German?

we're former officers of the Prussian Army

we've resigned voluntarily

this gentleman is a poet

a German poet

his name!

his name is von Kleist

I want to know from this gentleman

il parle franais comme sa premire langue

s'il est prussien

je suis Galles ???

gentlemen, I hope you understand

that we'll have to arrest you

unfortunately we cannot let you pass

you've no passport, no documents

please don't put up any resistance

je suis un officier prussien

je demande tre trait comme un officier

according to some,

they mistook him for Pfuel

whom the French knew quite well and feared too,

being an important patriot

according to others, he aroused suspicion

because he got embarrassed so easily,

stammering, blushing

had a baby face and in fact,

spoke French more fluently than German

des papiers!

de l'encre!

I want to write!

I want to roll the Ida onto the Ossa

[Penthesilea]

du papier, de l'encre!

when, with golden flaming hair,

Helios flies past my face

flees ... je veux crire!

Mlle de Kleist

I'll get up, travel to Berlin,

go to the French administration and won't rest

until I have freed Heinrich

vous tes courageuse, Mlle de Kleist

il parat que vous aimez votre frre

he isn't a spy

he's a poet

he hasn't done anything against the Emperor

he's been writing

that's all

but the written word is all-powerful

sometimes it is a more powerful weapon

than all the guns

but he isn't successful with his writings

nobody wants to read it

he isn't dangerous

that might be the shortcomings of his readers

so you like his writings?

it is ...

I'd say ...

very German

my dear Mademoiselle

we must consider carefully

whether we can release him from the fortress

according to the report of the commandant

at Fort de Joux, he's busy writing from morning till night

perhaps he's never been so industrious before

and will never be like that again

but this is ...

inhuman!

but true

those prison cells

are like graves

perhaps this is just what he needs

Toussaint Louverture

has died in such a cell

he wasn't a Prussian

like your brother

I'll see to it

that he is released soon

a bit against my convictions

my girl companions

[Penthesilea]

ten thousand suns

to ...

one ...

ball of fire

molten down

molten down

so brilliant

nothing but a victory

my victory over him

M. Kleist

vous tes libre

you girls, approach, with baskets full of roses

[Penthesilea]

where can I find the wreaths for so many brows?

out with you, into the fields

and breath upon the soil to make the roses grow

which spring is yet refusing me,

rush to your office, priestesses of Diana,

open up the temple's gates

let them fly open like the gates of Paradise,

filled with brilliant light and incense

oh let me, Prothoe, let my heart, for two moments,

dive into this stream of lust, like a soiled child

with each break of its splendid waves,

a stain is washed away from my bosom

this is for Heinrich

Heinrich won't come

but he's been released

Heinrich won't come

and he doesn't need cake,

he needs money

he always needs money

well ...

then ...

you should marry, Frl. von Kleist

no!

never!

Heinrich!

what's the matter?

what's happened?

she's dead

she's dead

who is?

who else but Penthesilea

but you've killed her yourself

yes ... indeed

the Erinyes are fleeing, the horrible ones

[Penthesilea]

a storm is raging,

as if the gods were near

I want to join their chorus right now

I never was as ripe for death as now

they say, misfortune purifies the mind

I, beloved, I didn't feel it that way

it made me feel bitter towards gods and men,

revolted me in inexplicable passion

how strange, each joyful face I saw

was hateful to me

the child playing in its mother's lap

seemed to conspire against my pains

how much I want to see everything around me

content and happy

oh Prothoe, a human being can be great,

a hero in suffering

but he's only divine

when he's blessed

Heinrich von Kleist

the greatest poet of the Germans

for his 30th birthday

the father said, before he died:

[The Broken Jug]

listen, Marthe,

find a brave husband for my girl

and if she turns into a wanton whore

then give a penny to the grave digger

and let me turn over with my body

upon my soul, I'm turning in my grave

do you want to honour father and mother,

according to the fourth commandment, my Eve?

speak up then, I let the boot maker into my chamber,

or a third man

but it wasn't the bridegroom

I pity her. Leave the jug, I beg of you

I am to have broken it?

you mean man, shame on you

very well, I broke the jug

phooey, Ruprecht, shame on you

that you didn't trust me

didn't I give you my hand and said "yes"

when you asked for it

"Eve, do you want me?"

Mlle Elsermann is wearing an excellent costume,

Herr von Goethe

tonight's sorbet didn't agree with me

[Saxon accent]

too much lemon - too sour

Weimar - The Prisoner - The Broken Jug

this is really boring, Privy Councilor

exceedingly boring

It always pleases me that you're willing

to promote young talent

but this pitiful ...

who is the insolent person

who dares whistle in my presence

Constable, arrest the fellow

my dear Privy Councilor,

this is getting unprofitable

fortunately, at the Weimar theatre

anything like that hasn't been staged yet

it won't happen again

venerable highborn sir

[letter to Goethe, 24 Jan. 1808]

esteemed Privy Councilor

on my heart's knees I present to you ...

[the play fragment Phoebus]

may the feeling which makes my hands tremble,

compensate for what they are offering

may the feeling which makes my hands tremble,

compensate for what they are offering

on my heart's knees I present to you ...

on my heart's knees

on my heart's knees

I'll ... I'll challenge him to a duel

even though he's a civilian

and not noble

I'll challenge him

it's his fault

he's turned one act into three

he's destroyed everything

you're unfair, Heinrich

no, it's his jealousy

but I'll tear the laurel wreath from his head

Heinrich!

serve him my challenge

I won't

but I'll leave you alone

you're unfair and ungrateful

I have a right to criticize him

because I've raised him and loved him

but either his development has been disturbed

by the times, as has happened to many

or whatever other reason there may be

enough

he doesn't keep his promise

the Kleist of the Broken Jug

has a lapidary style

somehow clipped,

with much humour, wit and a bit of talent,

he's amusing himself

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