Der Vampir By Heinrich August Ossenfelder

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Der Vampir By Heinrich August Ossenfelder

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lamech on Fri Jul 21, 2017 5:07 pm

Der Vampir
a poem by
Heinrich August Ossenfelder
May 25th, 1748

Mein liebes Mägdchen glaubet
Beständig steif und feste,
An die gegebnen Lehren
Der immer frommen Mutter;
Als Völker an der Theyse
An tödtliche Vampiere
Heyduckisch feste glauben.
Nun warte nur Christianchen,
Du willst mich gar nicht lieben;
Ich will mich an dir rächen,
Und heute in Tockayer
Zu einem Vampir trinken.
Und wenn du sanfte schlummerst,
Von deinen schönen Wangen
Den frischen Purpur saugen.
Alsdenn wirst du erschrecken,
Wenn ich dich werde küssen
Und als ein Vampir küssen:
Wenn du dann recht erzitterst
Und matt in meine Arme,
Gleich einer Todten sinkest
Alsdenn will ich dich fragen,
Sind meine Lehren besser,
Als deiner guten Mutter?

Der Vampir is arguably the first modern vampire poem, predating Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla, John Polidori's The Vampyre and Bram Stoker's Dracula to a date of 1748, which is only 14 years after the word "vampyre" entered the English language. Here it is written in the original German language, translated below for an English audience to enjoy. Notice the description of the vampire in this poem. His cold arms, the embracing kiss of death, the sleeping victim, the vampire's pale complexion, the draining blood; These characteristics would pave the way and set a cornerstone for future romantic vampire fiction novels like Bram Stoker's classic Count Dracula written in 1897.

My dear young maiden clingeth
Unbending fast and firm
To all the long-held teaching
Of a mother ever true;
As in vampires unmortal
Folk on the Theyse’s portal
Heyduck-like do believe.
But my Christine thou dost dally,
And wilt my loving parry
Till I myself avenging
To a vampire’s health a-drinking
Him toast in pale tockay.
And as softly thou art sleeping
To thee shall I come creeping
And thy life’s blood drain away.
And so shalt thou be trembling
For thus shall I be kissing
And death’s threshold thou’ it be crossing
With fear, in my cold arms.
And last shall I thee question
Compared to such instruction
What are a mother’s charms?
"Mortals fear what they do not understand. And they hate what they fear..."

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