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Examples of translations For each query the search for state expressions with the searched word in the dictionary base and the search for examples in real texts are performed;. Links to other resources and dictionary services , such as Wikipedia, Dictionary. We know that quite often you study foreign languages, do school, university or course assignments with our service and we're sure that our dictionaries will be your indispensable assistant.

PROMT dictionaries for English, German, French, Russian, Spanish and Italian contain millions of words and phrases as well as contemporary colloquial vocabulary, monitored and updated by our linguists. Please email us if you notice inaccurate or missing translation. Log In or Register. My translations by text by direction by topic. Log in. Tragedy, Lessing maintained, should not preach morality but rather should arouse admiration and pity in the audience as evidence of emotional involvement. The central point of these was a vigorous attack on the influential theatre critic J.

Gottsched for his advocacy of a theatre modeled on French drama, especially that of the 17th-century tragedian Pierre Corneille. Lessing maintained that the courtly, mannered drama of France was alien to the German mentality. Instead, he demanded a truly national drama, belonging to the people, based on faithfulness to nature and reality. He urged German playwrights to take Shakespeare as their model. In the 17th Literaturbrief he published a stirring scene from his own fragmentary Faust drama.

He thus paved the way for his young contemporary Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and his great dramatic version of the Faust story. In Lessing published some masterly prose fables , largely social criticism, and with them an essay on the fable form itself, in which he formulated the particular laws of the genre by analyzing its didactic and allegorical structure. In Lessing went to Breslau as secretary to General Tauentzien, the military governor of Silesia.

In the Laokoon Lessing attempted to fundamentally define the separate functions of painting and of poetry. He pointed out that whereas painting is bound to observe spatial proximity—and must, therefore, select and render the seminal and most expressive moment in a chain of events—poetry has the task of depicting an event organically and in its temporal sequence. The essence of poetry thus lies not in description but in the representation of the transitory, of movement. The second great Breslau work is Minna von Barnhelm , which marks the birth of classical German comedy.

The central characters are a Prussian officer, Major Tellheim, and a young gentlewoman from Thuringia, Minna. She resolves the conflict between the claims of conscience and those of happiness. The two protagonists are supported by forcefully drawn secondary characters. Lessing then accepted the offer of some Hamburg merchants to act as adviser and critic in their privately funded venture of a national theatre.

Within a year, however, the project collapsed, and Lessing recognized with some bitterness that the time for a German national theatre was not yet ripe. Even so, his reviews of more than 50 performances were published, in the form of brief essays on basic principles of the drama, under the title of Hamburgische Dramaturgie — His years there were unhappy and tempestuous but rich in achievement.

His tragedy Emilia Galotti was performed in Written in intense and incisive prose, this brilliantly constructed play deals with a conflict of conscience at the court of an Italian prince. Lessing became involved in perhaps the most bitter controversy of his career when he also published extracts containing extremely radical ideas from the papers of the recently deceased biblical critic and scholar H. Theologians viewed these publications as a serious challenge to religious orthodoxy, even though Lessing himself had taken up a mediating position toward the radical theses of Reimarus, who had rejected the basic tenets of the Christian faith.

Lessing went into battle against the orthodox clergy, involving himself in violent controversies with their leader, the chief pastor of Hamburg, J.

How to pronounce Freigeist

This is a didactic play of a theological and philosophical nature, combining ethical profundity with many comic touches, and is a work of high poetic quality and dramatic tension. The fact that the main characters discover in the end that they are blood relatives serves to underscore their common membership in the larger family of mankind.

But his life there was otherwise full of tribulations. His health had begun to give way, and it was a lonely existence, with only a few trips to break the monotony. In December she gave birth to their only child, a son, but he died soon after; she herself died the following month. We welcome suggested improvements to any of our articles.

You can make it easier for us to review and, hopefully, publish your contribution by keeping a few points in mind. Your contribution may be further edited by our staff, and its publication is subject to our final approval. The second version below was written in Nietzsche's inspiration was the French writer Stendhal. His source was probably Stendhal, or perhaps Paul Bourget. See Stendhal, Promenades dans Rome.

Also in Stendhal, Rome, Naples et Florence. Paul Bourget, "Psychologie Contemporaine. Notes et Portraits: Stendhal Henri Beyle. Le Cosmopolitisme de Beyle. Paris: , This poem was first published in "Gedichte von Friedrich Nietzsche. See explanatory note above for "Um Mittag, wenn The first part of the poem "Abschied" [Farewell] was first published under the title "Vereinsamt" [Loneliness] in "Ungedruckte Gedichte von Friedrich Nietzsche. Erste Abtheilung. Band VIII.

Education and first dramatic works.

Leipzig: Naumann, , It was published under that title until it was corrected by the editors of KGW. The second part of the poem "Antwort" [Reply] was first published in as a separate poem until being corrected as part of "Der Freigeist. View Nietzsche's manuscript of the poem at Nietzsche Source. Now you stand stiffly, Gazing backwards alas! Why, you fool, Did you steal away into the world's winter? Wer Das verlor, Was du verlorst, macht nirgends Halt. Whoever has lost What you've lost, never stops anywhere.

Now you stand pallid, Cursed to winter wanderings, Like the smoke That always seeks colder skies. Fly, bird, rasp out Your song to the tune of a wasteland bird! God have mercy! Mitleid mit deutschem Quer-Verstand! My friend, what here Dumbfounds me is your intelligence, Pity you! Pity German counterreason! Einsiedlers Sehnsucht. Title and first stanza. Aus hohen Bergen. All rights reserved. Das wird mir nicht klar.

In the pleasant valleys near Naumburg There are some charming places But really the nicest of all Of them to me is Pforta. I once stood upon verdant hills Gilded by the beams of sunset, As I looked down into the valley, The quiet meadow's green dress Blanketed with white mist, Suddenly a lovely Tolling sound wafted my way, A gentle reminder to rest. The stars shine so bright They draw us into gilded orbit Like guards of heaven Watching us peacefully. They rule in blessed silence And Pforta lies walled in by mist Illuminated by dim lights In spectral shapes.

I can never forget The wonderful impression this made: Why am I drawn to the same place? That's something I don't understand. In: Friedrich Nietzsche in Words and Pictures. Part 2. Nietzsche's School Years and Military Service: Ohne Heimath Without a Home Nietzsche started feeling homesick at Schulpforta, realizing, more than ever, that since his father's death he had been a "homeless" boy, untethered from the world.

Und wer mich sieht, der kennt mich, Und wer mich kennt, der nennt mich: Den heimathslosen Hernn Swift horses carry me Without fear and trembling Through the distant land. And whoever sees me, knows me, And whoever knows me, calls me: The homeless man No one would dare To ask me about Where my home is: I have never been bound To space and fleeting time, Am as free as an eagle! Sweet dreams have fled, The past has fled, The present is gloomy, The far-off future bleak. Ich habe nie empfunden Des Lebens Lust u. Having never experienced The joy and happiness of life, I look back sadly Upon long-vanished times.

I do not know what I love, I have neither peace nor rest. I would like to die, die Dozing upon a green meadow Clouds drifting by above me, Forest-solitude around me. How nice to fly about Like air around the revolving ball Creeping into every corner, Subsiding in soaring space!

Freigeist Hier und Jetzt

Und dann eine Zeitschrift schreiben Ueber den Weltumfang. How nice to engulf the world In universal intensity. And then write a journal About the world's circumference. In the pit of my stomach I would constrain infinity, Proving, then, with a thousand reasons, That world and time are finite. Schweifen, o Schweifen! To roam, O to roam Freely through the world so wide, With green bows On hat and coat. When I swing the little bell, It sounds so soft, so gentle. My locks of hair flutter Around me in the wind. I look at the deer So lovely in the forest, I become so sad, It too will soon be forgotten.

A fragrant little rose Blooms in the heather, I kiss the little rose And weep a little. Merrily, as wind sweeps And tugs a dream through the heart, A linden blossom falls Down from the tree. Once more, ere I move on And send my glance forward, Lonely, I raise my hands To you, to whom I flee, To whom I, in the deepest depths of my heart, Have solemnly consecrated altars, So that, at all times, His voice would summon me again.

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Deeply inscribed upon them glows The words: To the Unknown God. Ich will dich kennen, selbst dir dienen. I want to know you, unknown one, You who have reached deep within my soul, Wandering through my life like a storm, You incomprehensible one, akin to me! I want to know you, even serve you.

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Und schrei ich laut: Homer! So macht das Jedermann Beschwer. Zur Kirche geht man und nach Haus Und lacht den lauten Schreier aus. Thus annoying everyone. They go to church and then go home And laugh at the loud crier. As a reward for this exuberance Of kindness here is my printed thanks.

Nach Pforta To Pforta Ohne Heimath Without a Home To roam, O to roam! An die Melancholie To Melancholy Verarge mir es nicht, Melancholie, Dass ich die Feder, dich zu preisen, spitze, Und dass ich nicht, den Kopf gebeugt zum Knie, Einsiedlerisch auf einem Baumstumpf sitze.

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Don't blame me, Melancholy, That I sharpen my pen to praise you, Not that I, head bowed to my knee, Sit hermitlike on a tree stump, hewn. You often saw me thus, just yesterday, In the heat of the radiant morning sun: A vulture cried greedily in the valley, Dreaming of its staked and rotting carrion. Du sahst das Auge nicht, das wonnenreich Noch hin und her rollt, stolz und hochgemuthe.

You failed, wild bird, although I rested mummylike on my seat! You missed my eye, roving to and fro, Blissfully proud in the morning heat. Thus I often sat, unsightly, A crude crooked sacrifice, Recalling with you, Melancholy, Penance for the youthful years of life! Now I sit content, the vulture circling, Avalanche of rolling thunder apace, You speak to me, lacking man's deceiving, Truthfully, yet with an austere face.

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  • Stern goddess, savage and intense, You, dearest friend, try to advance; And point to where the vulture descends, Daring me to deny you amid the rumbling avalanche. Snarling with a hiss of terrible desire, Driven by agonizing greed, she sighs!

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    On her stony bed, seductively, this flower Yearns for the caress of butterflies. Don't blame me, angry deity, That you, with delicate rhymes, I adorn. Trembling at your approach and terrible visage, As you dawn, an evil face is born. After a Nocturnal Thunderstorm Today you hang as misty cover Around my window, goddess of dark cloud, Ashen flakes eerily hover To a roaring brook's angry sound. O amid your sudden lightning flashes, When your untamed thunder boomed, In valleys poisoned and noxious, Your death-drink, sorceress, was brewed!

    At midnight, shuddering, your howling cries Awoke me with a jolt, You reached, with blazing eyes, For a piercing thunderbolt. Rushed to my empty bed at last, Fully armored, weapons drawn, Struck your chain mail against the glass, And spoke: "Now hear what I am!