Archaischer Torso Apollos

Archaischer Torso Apollos

Wir kannten nicht sein unerhörtes Haupt,
darin die Augenäpfel reiften. Aber
sein Torso glüht noch wie ein Kandelaber,
in dem sein Schauen, nur zurückgeschraubt,

sich hält und glänzt. Sonst könnte ich der Bug
der Brust dich blenden, und im leisen Drehen
den Lenden könnte nicht ein Lächeln gehen
zu jener Mitte, die die Zeugung trug.

Sonst stünde dieser Stein entstellt und kurz
unter der schulten durchsichtigem Sturz
und flimmerte nicht so wie Raubtierfelle;

und brache nicht aus allen seinen Rändern
aus wie ein Stein: denn da ist keine stelle,
die dich nicht sieht. Du musst dein leben ändern.


Literal version (from Stanley Burshaw's The Poem Itself

1)We did not know his unheard-of (unbelievable) head
2)wherein the eye-apples ripened. But
3)his torso still glows like a candelabrum
4)in which his gaze, merely turned down low [like the flames of a candelabrrum, no longer visible but stilll sending out an afterglow]
5)holds on and gleams. Else the curve
6)of the chest could not blind you, and in the slight twist
7)of the loins there could not go a smile [there would not be a smile, going]
8)towards that centre that bore procreation [the genitals].
9)Else this stone would be standing disfigured and short
10)under the shoulder‘s transparent fall (plunge)
11)and [it] would not glint like the fell (skin) of beasts of prey;
12)and would not break out from all its [sharp] edges
13)like a star: For here [on this torso] is no place
14)that does not see you. You must change your life.


Archaic Torso of Apollo

We never knew his body’s marvellous crown,
in which the eyes were growing. All the same
his torso glows like a candelabra’s flame,
in which his vision, at the most turned down,

endures and shines. Or else his breast’s curved force
could not blind you, and in the gentle flowing
of his loins a smile would not be going
to that same centre, his conception’s source.

Or else this stone would stand deformed and small
under the shoulder’s diaphanous fall,
not glistening like fur on beasts of prey;

and would not burst out all along its border
like a star: for all the while his torso’s play
is watching you. You must put your life in order.

[George F. Peters]


Archaic Torso of Apollo

We have no idea what his fantastic head
was like, where the eyeballs were slowly swelling. But
his body now is glowing like a gas lamp,
whose inner eyes, only turned down a little,

hold their flame, shine. If there weren’t a little light, the curve
of the breast wouldn’t blind you, and in the swerve
of the thighs s smile wouldn’t keep on going
towards the place where the seeds are.

If there weren’t light, this stone would look cut off
where it drops clearly from the shoulders,
its skin wouldn’t gleam like the fur of a wild animal,

and the body wouldn’t send out light from every edge
as a star does. . . for there is no place at all
that isn’t looking at you. You must change your life.

[Robert Bly]

Archaic Torso of Apollo

We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,

gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark centre where procreation flared.

Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast’s fur:

would not, from all the borders with itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.


[Stephen Mitchell]


Archaic Torso of Apollo

We never knew his legendary head,
the eyes like two ripe globes. But now
as then the torso glows, a candelabra
in whose flame his merely lowered gaze

burns undiminished. Were this not so,
no rounded breast would dazzle you, no smile
would twist through gently curving loins
towards that centre where the seed is born.

This stone would stand truncated and defaced
beneath the shoulder’s precipice; not
glistening like some predator’s sleek flank,

nor blasting, like a star, through fire-enclosing
crust. For each and every part of it
has you in its sight. You must change your life.

[Ian Fairley]



Archaic Torso of Apollo

We did not know his unexampled head
in which the eyeballs ripened. None the less
his torso still is glowing like a lantern
and on a lowered flame his gaze inside it

persists and gleams. Or else the bow curve
of the breast could not dazzle you, and in the loins’
gradual turn a smile could never travel
to that midpoint that carried procreation.

Or else this stone wold stand deformed and short
beneath the shoulders’ glassy cataract,
and would not flicker so, like animal skins;

and would not break from all its confines outward,
rayed like a star: for there’s no part of it
that does not see you. You must change your life.

[Christopher Middleton]