Emma Jung the Poetess
The Wall
Mighty and high the wall arises,
Gigantic, yes, but human its builder.
Mortared with zeal, stone upon stone,
what it’s holding, no one knows;
only those who heed, in the noonday hush,
will hear beyond it the currents’ rush.
But a day may come, as the days unfold,
when the lake its waters cannot hold.
Breaking through, into the valley they pour,
filling the land, and the world even more.
Shrouding the heavy, they lift up the light,
the former to death, the latter to life,
borne ever higher and higher aloft,
till all below, in the deep not lost,
will see what a miracle the flood bestowed:
to the Land Beyond is an open road! ~May 1916
fn 1: 1 This untitled poem and painting are found in the marbled book, together with a dream text, dated “III 1916.”
The dream takes place in the city of Schaffhausen, Switzerland, where Emma Jung was born and grew up. The dreamer is struck by changes in the city’s architecture.
She stays close to the medieval structures, which have not changed. A later, handwritten copy of the poem is found in the 1921 poem booklet, bearing the title and date shown here.
The Soul —A cloud
In fog, in clouds, my soul in Thee.
O soul, wilt Thou not speak to me?
Ah, my child, clouds have no words.
To and fro above the world,
carried by the wind they fly
across the heavens, in lofty joy,
having no shape nor lasting form,
daily they billow and transform.
From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth,
eternally, clouds come to birth.
The cloud you think to touch
is distant as the sky,
and then it wraps around you
and veils you on all sides.
Never will you catch it;
no point for you to try,
even if to heaven
aloft you were to fly.
Remember, mortal, truly,
the cloud and you are twain:
you cannot know it fully
until it turns to rain! ~Rigi,2 June 1916
Far off
Yes, beautiful it is, the wild dance of life,
and the colorful troupe of dancers, never resting,
in ever-changing lights and new formations
passing before our eyes!
More beautiful is it yet, beyond the shifting, changing bustle,
to steer our gaze
far off
to where in boundless blue
the towering sky touches our earthly rim,
and solemnly to bow before the holy gates
through which our sun, divinely radiant,
day after day appears and vanishes again. ~January 1917
Grief
Love, why did you flee from me?
No word, no voice would give me a reply.
Only a cold breath blows into my face,
and everything that once was full of life is dead. ~November 1917
A death is come upon me
A death is come upon me.
The world has fallen mute.
The voice of earth no more I hear—
the rocks and flowers, trees and water
no longer speak to me.
The heavens, too, sun, moon, and stars
are silent to my ear.
I am alone, cut off from all.
Torn are the bonds that link my soul
with the whole, wide world.
How did this happen?
Where lies the blame?
(A voice):
“ Now hear the answer:
What the world promised you, it promised falsely!
The earth is not a mother, on whose heart
you rest, a child, in blissful dreams!
Heaven is not lovely,
nor do the moon and stars in kindness shine!
No, all these things are lies.
The All is only space, an endless dark,
Filled with ice and stony forms
that endlessly, forlornly, circle round.
This is the universe;
and even your ‘dear, golden sun’—
a terrifying fire that rages and devours!
But you, you are a human being;
and human beings should not
believe in lies.
Your suffering is the punishment
the God of Truth inflicts on everyone
who does not pay him proper reverence.”
(Another voice):
“ ‘The God of Truth’, you say?
And what is truth?
Today it’s this, tomorrow something else,
and madness ever to discover it.
But beauty is eternal;
it alone deserves your reverence,
and the world is beautiful!”
(Third voice):
“ Illusion, all illusion!
Truth is a true illusion,
beauty a beautiful illusion,
yet illusion it all remains;
and without human beings, not even that.
Therefore:
Real and of meaning is only
the human being and the human soul.” ~January 1918
Emma Jung, Dedicated to the Soul; The Writings and Drawings of Emma Jung, Page 231 -241
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