歌德 論 巴哈十二平均律
Lovetta Reyes Cairo 畫作
「歌德，這位業餘愛樂者，初次聆賞十二平均律時，
就很直覺的領略到了這部作品的涵義。
他在給友人的信中說道：
『我彷彿聽見永恆的和諧正在自我對話，
彷彿是上帝創造萬物前的那一刻，祂胸中所欲湧現的一切。
而那一切也正於我內在湧動著。
我覺得自己不再擁有聽覺，也不需要聽覺。
而視覺就更不需要了，其他感官亦然。』
歌德感受到了內在那份完滿的和諧，
而這也正是這部作品所欲傳達的精髓。
對今日的我們來說，那是難以捕捉的純粹專注力與平衡美。」
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe hat das Erlebnis des hörenden Nachvollziehens
dieser großartigen Musik, das ihm der Bad Berkaer Organist Heinrich Friedrich Schütz
ermöglichte, mit auch heute noch gültigen Worten beschrieben:
“Ich sprach’s mir aus:
als wenn die ewige Harmonie sich mit sich selbst unterhielte,
wie sich’s etwa in Gottes Busen, kurz vor der Weltschöpfung,
möchte zugetragen haben.
So bewegte sich’s auch in meinem Innern, und es war mir,
als wenn ich weder Ohren, am wenigsten Augen,
und weiter keine übrigen Sinne besäße noch brauchte.“
出自 莎士比亞《威尼斯商人》第五幕 第一景
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
多美啊，月光於堤岸輕眠，
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
歇坐會兒吧，讓音樂躡足
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
潛入雙耳；輕柔的靜默與黑夜
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
化為陣陣輕撫的甜美和諧。
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
坐吧，潔西卡，妳看那一地穹蒼
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
如此豐厚的鑲著純金。
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
妳眼裡最微渺的那顆星子，
But in his motion like an angel sings,
亦以天使歌聲的韻律運行，
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins:
合音不絕，向童顏天使輕吟：
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
這般和諧永存於不朽心靈；
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
然而，這件終朽的肉身，覆泥般地
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.—
將這和諧封起，我們遂無從聆聽。–
(Mary May 譯）
Spoken by Lorenzo, The Merchant of Venice, Act 5, Scene 1
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn’d to a modest gaze
By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature.
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
