Page:Psychology of the Unconscious (1916).djvu/69

 the very atmosphere of these pictures, and far more brutally, indeed, than in Mörike's charming poem.

The Maiden's First Love Song

What's in the net?
 * Behold,

But I am afraid, Do I grasp a sweet eel, Do I seize a snake?
 * Love is a blind
 * Fisherwoman;
 * Tell the child
 * Where to seize.

Already it leaps in my hands.

Oh, Pity, or delight! With nestlings and turnings
 * It coils on my breast,
 * It bites me, oh, wonder!
 * Boldly through the skin,
 * It darts under my heart.

Oh, Love, I shudder!

What can I do, what can I begin?
 * That shuddering thing;
 * There it crackles within
 * And coils in a ring.
 * It must be poisoned.
 * Here it crawls around.
 * Blissfully I feel as it worms
 * Itself into my soul
 * And kills me finally.

All these things are simple, and need no explanation to be intelligible. Somewhat more complicated, but still