Blick in die Ferne Looking Away

? so i started singing

whisper

my voice goes up and down

like the sound of the wind

I suddenly shuddered

tears flow

hardened heart

full of warmth

still have

as if fleeing from sight

Gone

come alive again

- Goethe's "Faust"

"Mr. Goethe?"

The voice next to my ear carried a trace of sullenness that was not difficult to detect. I raised my head in a daze, and the enlarged face of Slang Ke appeared in front of my eyes.He looked at me with a frown, and finally scratched his head resignedly, "I called you several times, but you finally answered me. The meal has already been prepared, and it's in the main hall."

I shook my head with a smile, raised the quill in my hand and signaled to him, "I haven't finished writing yet, let's eat later."

"You can write the book later, but you have to eat the meal. Last time, I said to eat it later, but I didn't eat it until night after writing. The lunch was piled up for breakfast!" Slang Ke spoke quickly, with a clear tone Feeling helpless for a while, I knew he was blaming me for my procrastination, although I didn't quite hear it.

These days, my ears don't pick up every word other people say as quickly as they used to.

Seeing that I didn't respond, Slangke continued: "Oh, I really don't understand. What's the use of writing and writing like this every day? I don't know literature, but I know that you are already a member of the Privy Council." First of all, the money you earn from writing a book for several years is less than a year’s salary. The honor your book brings to you may not be as brilliant as the honor you brought to Weimar. In this case, there is What is there to write about?"

Seeing Slangke's annoyed expression, I smiled quietly, and couldn't help but sigh in my heart for the straightforwardness and innocence of this boy.He has only been working here for two years, and he doesn't know the purpose of my book writing.

"I heard that this book is an agreement between you and Mr. Schiller?"

I nodded.

Yes, when others ask, I will say that "Faust" is an agreement between me and my old friend.

However, a book written for those who have left is actually meaningless.

After all, he couldn't see it anymore.

It is not the long-cherished wish of any one of us to finish this book. I just write it like this, so that I can imprint Schiller in my later life, and pay tribute to my friend with the nib of a pen and brown paper.

Or maybe it's a lover.

I have lived for a long time, and I have missed it for a long time.I don't mind thinking about it until my body and skin are all gone.

I don't know if I was hit by my distraction, Slangke shook his head, and said: "If you get angry with you again, you are making yourself suffer, but we will suffer, and even Mr. Schiller will suffer. "

"Where does this start?" I asked puzzled.

"He was at Mr.'s house an hour ago and would have liked to have lunch with you, but it will probably be late in the evening, but I don't think he would mind much..."

I immediately put down my pen and stood up tremblingly.Slangke came to support my swaying body, and put the crutch in my hand, "I knew that you would definitely go out when you mentioned Mr. Schiller. Everyone said that since Mr. Schiller passed away, the thing you love the most is his. son."

I didn't respond, but walked carefully towards the hall with a cane on my back.

Ferdinand, also known as Mr. Schiller in Srankko's mouth, is the son of Schiller and Kalia.

When Schiller died, Ferdinand was still in Calia's womb.A pregnant woman with a big belly has to take care of the funeral and may give birth at any time, so I ordered others to take care of the mother and child from time to time, but I didn't go there often.

For Kalia, I still have a little concern.After all, she was Schiller's wife.

Schiller has passed away for 20 years, and Ferdinand has grown up for 20 years. Some people say that time will dilute all memories, but whenever I see Ferdinand, I can always think of Schiller from him. Me, us back then.

Just like parents see their young selves in their children, so I treat Ferdinand like my own son.And the outside world often regards my care for the Schiller family as a continuation of our friendship.At that time, only Auguste would snort when he saw me play with Ferdinand intimately.

He knows, my mind.

But his understanding of me has also stopped at his sick bed ten years ago.

Ten years ago, that was the last time I saw him.At that time, my health was not so bad, I was still wearing a straight dress, shuttling around every corner of the palace to deal with countless affairs.

I remember, that day, he finally held my hand.

I remember that day, he cried.

I remember the words he murmured before he died - "Obviously, I found him first."

And that "sorry" I keep repeating.

He heard my apology but didn't answer anything.He just laughed and wept silently and it ended up being part of my memories.

Before walking into the hall, I looked up at the sky. As always, how many people's love-hate entanglements have been witnessed by the sky.

"Hello, Uncle Goethe." Ferdinand greeted me politely when he saw me coming in.

"Hello." I gestured for him to sit back at the dining table, and Sranko took my crutch in time.

"Actually, I came to your house today to ask for something." Before I could speak, Ferdinand said straight to the point.

I motioned to Sranko to refill Ferdinand's tea, and asked, "What's the matter, tell me, I'll try my best to help."

Ferdinand took a sip from the teacup and was silent for a while before speaking, "We want to move my father's coffin from the central church, but something happened right now."

Hearing Schiller's name, I couldn't help raising my eyebrows and asked, "What happened?"

"A few days ago, the first floor of the central church collapsed and hit the floor of my father's coffin. As a result, dozens of nearby coffins were broken, and everyone's bones were mixed together. I don't know... which one belongs to my father."

"What?!" I was startled, almost screaming.

"Didn't I tell you a long time ago that there are too many coffins in that church and they must be moved to an independent cemetery for Schiller! That is to say, he has been living in the central church for the past 20 years?" I was gloomy. asked.

"Yes... yes." Ferdinand flinched a little probably because he saw me angry for the first time, "We wanted to move the tomb after you said that, but just in time for my mother's death, so It was delayed. When I think about it later, Duke August passed away, and the court was in a mess at that time, and our application for moving the tomb was not submitted in time."

"It's all an excuse." I shook my head, "This is the end, how do you want me to help?"

"We want you to identify your father's bones," said Ferdinand carefully.

"Identify the bones?" I repeated these words, and couldn't help but sneer, "Do you really think that after so many years, I can identify which bones belong to Schiller?"

"Uncle Goethe, you are actually right." Ferdinand hesitated, but he mustered up the courage to tell the truth. "Father has passed away for so long, and now there are only a pile of bones left. I will go to you It's just for psychological comfort. Even if you can't identify which one is the real remains of the father, what does it matter? When people worship the father, who cares whether the remains in the coffin are the remains of the father? ? As long as everyone respects and thinks about their father, I think that's enough, isn't it?"

"Ferdinand," I sighed, my old hand slowly covered his young and strong shoulders, and patted, "There are some things you don't know, and I don't want you to know. But what you said I will help, let me know when you are ready, and I will help you identify them."

"Thank you Uncle Goethe!"

Looking at Ferdinand's overjoyed expression, I couldn't laugh no matter what. An inexplicable feeling was spreading in my heart, which was quite heavy. I just wanted to be alone for a while, so I made up a reason and put Ferdinand sent away.

After sending off Ferdinand, Srank came back to look at me and asked suspiciously, "Sir, you don't seem to be in a good mood. What happened?"

I shook my head helplessly, "It's nothing, I just thought of the past, I just miss it."

Slangke looked at me silently, and suddenly said: "Sir, why don't you write your book."

Slangke, who had always been opposed to my book writing, suddenly supported me in writing a book for the first time, and I couldn't help being surprised: "Why?"

"Although I think it hurts your body to write at your desk all day long at your age. But I would rather have you write than to see your sad face. Anyway, you always look happy when you write."

"Really." I looked at Si Langke's serious expression and couldn't laugh or cry.

"That's right! Aunt Ceylon told us last time after she brought you afternoon tea that you were writing and laughing at your desk that day, humming songs from time to time, just like a child!"

I smiled without saying a word, just quietly watching the young man in front of me talking.It seems a long time ago, on a certain day, there was also a young man, he looked helplessly at me dancing when inspiration struck, he rubbed my hair, he handed me a quill pen dipped in ink, he said, you laugh Looks like a child.

At that time, there was a smile in his eyes, and his curved eyes made it difficult to move away.We embraced under the moonlight, accompanied by endless ink fragrance.

Decades have passed in a blink of an eye, and all the past has turned to dust.

Probably because I felt a little uneasy when I saw it, Slangke carefully apologized: "Sir, I got carried away just now, I'm really sorry!"

"It's okay," I smiled, "Slangke, do you want to hear a story?"

Seeing that I suddenly changed the subject, Si Langke was a little surprised, but still nodded slightly,

"Once upon a time there were two people, let's call them G and S, who were originally very good friends. They had the same hobbies and goals, and they fell in love with each other in their day-to-day interactions. After a series of After a lot of temptations, the two finally confirmed their mutual intentions and came together."

"The days with my lover are beautiful. They are moving forward together on the road to realize their dreams, and they have made small achievements and won infinite flowers and applause. But as more and more people pay attention to them, G becomes Gradually panicked."

"Why are you panicking?" Slang asked.

"For some reason, the relationship between G and S cannot be recognized by the world. G is afraid that when others find out about them, the fame and wealth they have gained will disappear. But S did not find out what was in G's heart. Bolan still treats him well as always."

Slangke continued to listen.

I sighed and continued: "But not long after, what G was worried about finally happened. A found out about his relationship with S. He threatened to expose their relationship and make them break up. G began to have conflicts. He was afraid that he would lose everything. So he chose to break up with S."

"At this time, G didn't consider S's mood?" Si Langke raised his eyebrows and asked.

"No... I think, probably not." I smiled helplessly, not knowing what it was like in my heart.

"And then?" Slang asked.

"Then, then they broke up." I rested my chin on my hand, searching for the old memory in my mind, "A found out that he liked G, he told G, and broke into G's life mercilessly .And G just resisted for a while, then compromised."

"Don't G love S?" Si Langke asked again.

"I don't know, maybe what's left between them is just nostalgia," I paused, and continued, "G once tried to restore his relationship with S for this reason, but at that time, S refused. After being sad, he entered A's arms. G completely betrayed S and forgot those vows."

"Later S died, and G only cared about being with A, and didn't even see S for the last time. But soon after, G discovered that S actually loved him until his death, and even though G betrayed him, he was still there For G's sake."

"The story...isn't over yet."

"Indeed, it's endless."

"Afterwards, G began to repent and reflect on his life. In his life, he owed two people, S and A. He didn't know who he owed more. He only knew that he was sorry for them."

"So even though Mr. S and Mr. A have passed away for a long time, Mr. G has no face to visit their graves. He is afraid that his dirty soul will desecrate these two people who once loved him until death came."

"End?"

"It's over." I nodded and smiled weakly, "I'm sorry to let you hear a tragedy."

"It's okay." Slangke shook his head with a smile, "I also want to tell you a story. I don't know if you want to hear it."

"You say." I cheered up and suppressed the sadness that just gushed out,

"When I was still working in the palace, a lady once told me such a story. Speaking of it, it is really similar to the story you told, sir. It is also about three people named G, S, and A. The story of someone. It just sounds like a continuation of your story."

I froze and looked at him in surprise.

Slangke smiled indifferently, and said eloquently: "Mr. S once regretted after G and A got together, why he rejected G's invitation to get back together, because he knew that A can bring G, G Everything you want. The lady told me that she once asked S why he was so stupid, why a heartbroken man like G still couldn't forget him before he died, and S's answer shocked her."

I bit my lip and remained silent.

"After a few years, Mr. A also fell on the sickbed. Before he died, he wiped away the tears on her face and told her that he didn't hate G, he only hated fate. She questioned A unwillingly. The hurt is full of wounds, why does he still not hate G. When A hears G's name, he just smiles softly, and his pale complexion shines with a light that cannot be concealed in his pupils."

"She saw him with the same smile and said exactly the same words as S did at that time," Slangke turned to me and said slowly, "'Because Goethe is the one I love, even if I know what kind of person he is, but I still love him.'”

I was stunned for a while, and laughed at myself: "So you used to follow Christine. I know she has always hated me..."

Slangke shook his head, "I know Madam's mentality best. She never really hated you, she just always felt unwilling for her brother and Schiller. But after I told her about your current state, she understood what you mean The torment and regret in her heart far exceeded her imagination. 'Don't disappoint their love for you, this is the best redemption', this is what Madam asked me to tell you."

I choked up and could barely speak.He just kept holding Si Langke's hand, repeating the word thank you.

When Srank saw me, he couldn't bear it. He said softly: "Sir, grass has grown on the Duke's tomb, and you haven't been there since it was built. There is also the request of Young Master Schiller. Please be sure to go to the appointment. People have been gone for so long, any regrets are useless, and their heavenly spirits must also hope that you will visit them from time to time, even if they can only listen to you, it is enough."

"I know...it's just that I haven't been able to face them calmly." I raised my head, exhaled, and my wandering eyes focused on the boundless blue sky outside the window.

"However, I will not disappoint your love. I will personally go to your grave to say I am sorry."

Slangke showed a gratified smile.

I patted him on the shoulder, went into the study, and wrote the last chapter of Faust.

I can't write Werther if I haven't loved madly.If I didn't comprehend life calmly from love, I would never be able to write the final full stop for "Faust".

The devil failed to defeat the angel in the end, and the angel left behind a sentence "I can save all those who strive for self-improvement" and brought Faust's soul into heaven.I don't know if Faust can meet the person who has been dedicated to me all his life but has never regretted it in that beautiful land of gods.

Tell him for me, I miss him.

A few days later, a letter came from the church asking me to identify Schiller's bones.

Along the bluestone road, I leaned on crutches and walked forward tremblingly.Slang Ke followed far behind, and I didn't want him to get close.

I have walked this road countless times alone, and I have looked outside the church door countless times. After all, I still hesitated countless times, turned around staggeringly and went home along the original road.

Time has worn away my memory like sandpaper, and I can't remember many things clearly, but guilt and remorse have always been with me in the past 20 years.

I don't think they are nightmares, because they are closely intertwined with the memory of Schiller in my mind, allowing me to pant in the pain, and outline Schiller's face in my mind with trembling fingertips.

Smiling, he traveled through 20 years of icy darkness, calling softly like water: "Goethe, I'm back."

So I would often wake up in a dream, with tears in my eyes.

I know that my time is numbered.

This also made me more determined to see Schiller for the last time before this withered body completely disappeared.

The basement of the church.

There was a sickening smell in the air.

A blue skeleton suddenly appeared in front of me.

After a while of dizziness, I collected myself, leaned on crutches, and walked over slowly.

I told Slang Ke to push the others away, and I carefully sat down beside the bones.He looked at me and seemed to want to say something, but in the end he just smiled and closed the door.

I know he wants to say, don't force it.

Sighing softly, I picked up the first skull beside me.

"The first time I saw you, I actually envied you very much. You are so youthful and radiant. In your eyes, I can see the passion that I have been away from for a long time. At that time, I was at the trough of creation, politics There is no progress in this area, and Helder often blames me, so when you appeared in front of me, I suddenly felt that this was probably a gift from God..."

The light of the candles trembled, and the shadows of skulls flickered on the wall.

I grinned, and picked up another one.

My old voice echoed in the basement of the old church, alone, without any response.I stroked the soft cranium, pharyngeal cranium and membranous cranium on the skull with my fingertips, and suddenly smiled: "Schiller, I suddenly remembered that when we were young, I wanted to show you the bones I found during the autopsy. Waiting for you to praise me, but I didn’t expect to provoke you to put on a straight face and scold me, saying that I don’t know how to specialize in the main business, and dabbling too much will only leave a laughingstock of ‘all but nothing’.”

Speaking of this, I seemed to see Schiller's pretendingly serious face back then, and I couldn't help laughing, laughing too much and causing coughing.I blushed and tremblingly picked up another skull.

There seemed to be some liquid slipping down the open wrinkles, I wiped it casually with my hands, and sighed: "I never thought that 20 years later, I would use this method to find you."

Once the story was told, it couldn't stop.

I spoke very slowly, and my mind seemed to have never been so clear. Sentence by sentence, the stories between me and Schiller were connected in series without pause.

Only when I read August's name, I paused slightly, and then laughed at myself.

The night was very quiet, and so was the church.

I sighed softly and changed another head.

There was a soft sobbing sound outside the door, is it Slang Ke?

I smiled at the skull in my hand, and sighed: "Schiller, your story and mine will be remembered after all." As soon as I finished speaking, I burst into tears.

From the skull in my hand came a pulsation so close to mine, so faint it was, but I caught it.

My hand trembled uncontrollably, and I knelt on the ground, carefully holding it in my arms.

The cold temperature, unfamiliar sense of touch, and the texture of the fingertips all exude Schiller's breath.

Tears fell into Schiller's eyes.

It's just that there used to be Schiller's brilliant eyes, but now there are only two holes left, weakly drawn on his face that has lost flesh and blood.

I couldn't hold on anymore, I slumped on the ground, hugged Schiller's skull tightly, and murmured: "Schiller... let's go, come home with me."

I walked out holding the skull amidst everyone's amazed eyes, and put it in Ferdinand's hand with both hands.I looked at the young man who inherited Schiller's blood, and said softly but firmly: "Please bury your father in the cemetery I designed for him. superior."

Ferdinand looked at me blankly and nodded solemnly.

Slangke came over, held me by the arm, and whispered in my ear: "Sir, let me help you go back."

"No," I shook my head, looking into the young man's eyes with persistence, "Today, I have to meet someone else."

Slangke was stunned for a moment, then smiled comprehensibly, supported me, and walked slowly to the distance.

The sound of crutches hitting the ground echoed in the night sky of Weimar City.

I vaguely heard Ferdinand talking to other family members. He said, Mr. Goethe is really a good friend of my father.

It's that familiar name again.I smiled feebly.

The roses in front of the church bloomed and fell, and fell and bloomed again.

The scenery is the same as before, but things are neither people nor people.

No matter how strong the memory is, one day it will disappear with the wind with the death of the body.Although the past is like smoke, love is remembered by this inch of land.Those sad, ridiculous, pity, and hateful things in the past have turned into people's sighs with the passage of time.

Today, there are no Goethe and Schiller in Weimar, but their stories are immortal in Weimar.

The breeze blew past, as if taking people back to the afternoon when the two met. When Goethe looked at the young man surrounded by the sun, did he guess that that moment was a lifetime.

[use up]