The Poetic Perspective
The Seer's Favorite Poetry
In Theodor Fontane’s famous ballad “The Bridge on the Tay,” the parents in the bridge house wait anxiously for the train passing through the night, soon to pass the recently built Firth-of-Tay Bridge, considered a marvel of engineering. On the train is their son Johnie, who is coming to visit them for Christmas
(English Translation)
Theodor Fontane (1819 – 1898)
“When will the three of us meet again?”
“Around the seventh hour, on the bridge embankment.”
“On the central pillar.” “I’ll put out the flame.”
“Me with.”
“I come from the north.”
“And I from the south.”
“And I from the sea.”
“Hey, that’s a row of rings,
And the bridge must go into the ground.”
‘And the train stepping into the bridge
At the seventh hour?”
“He has to come with me.”
“Must go.”
»Tande, Tande,
Is the creation of man’s hand.’
On the north side, the bridge house –
All windows face south
And the Brückner people, without rest and rest
And in fear look south
See and wait, if not a light
Saying “I’m coming” across the water
“I come, in spite of the night and storm flight,
Me, the Edinburgh train.’
And Brückner now: »I see a glow
on the other shore. That must be him.
Well mother, away with the anxious dream,
Our Johnie comes and wants his tree,
And what else is on the tree of lights,
Light everything like the holy Christ,
He wants to be with us twice this year –
And he’ll be in in eleven minutes.”
And it was the train. At the southern tower
Gasps he past now against the storm,
And Johnie speaks: “The bridge still!
But what does it matter, we force it after all.
A solid kettle, a double steam,
They remain victors in such a fight,
And no matter how it rushes and wrestles and runs,
We’ll get it down: the element.«
»And our pride is our bridge;
I laugh, I think back to before
Of all the misery and all the hardship
With the miserable old boat;
How many dear Christmas night
I spent in the ferry house
And saw our windows bright light,
And counted, and couldn’t be over there.”
On the north side, the bridge house –
All windows face south
And the Brückner people without rest and rest
And in trepidation look south;
For the winds grew more angry,
And now, as if fire fell from the sky,
It glows in shooting down splendor
Over the water below … And again it’s night.
“When will the three of us meet again?”
“At midnight, on the crest.”
“On the high moor, by the alder trunk.”
“I’m coming.” “I’m with you.”
“I’ll give you the number.”
“And I the names.”
“And I the torment.”
»Hey! The beams broke in two like splinters.”
»Tande, Tande,
Is the creation of man’s hand.’
Note from Rogier:
Translations for this poem are pretty divergent, such as this one and this one. But here is the German original. And here is an essay about the poem.
Yikes!