The scene of life
THE FROG PRINCE
The oracle of questions of human kind in a mystery fair following the stages of I CHING, TARO and ASTROLOGY. A journey of transformation and return of the human being.
You have got the following scene:
57 INFLUENCE ON MASK AND NATURE
Contents
The stations of the Ego on its journey to its self
At the fountain
Darkness
Evening
At day
At the lake in the night
Village place in Mad-Joke
At the old mill
The intellektuals
Study room
On a hill
Fire and playing with fire
At a cross road
Conspiracy with the Sunday's child
Walk to the courtyard
Frog Prince to the Day
At the courtyard
Return of the poet
In prison
Nightwatch
In the Night
Agony and transformation
Awakening
The persons
The poet Joe
(first as magician, the self)
The Frog Prince
(first only half as man, the Ego)
The Sunday's child
(later as Frog Prince)
The Politicals.
The Intellectuals.
The Loving ones of Time.
The Crying ones of Time.
The advertising signs.
The People:
A washerwoman,
A girl,
A craftsman,
A prisoner,
A coquettish.
The Fool
The Kind
The Schermer
The Gaper
The Holy Joe
The Night
The Day
Ghosts and Figures
Scene of life no. 57 for the year 2000
INFLUENCE ON MASK AND NATURE
The soft, urgent wind play can obtain great successes with small. It is beneficial, if one has a goal before one's eyes, that means, if one sees the great man or the great woman, who one would like to reach. The wind reaches successes, although it remains itself invisible. It wears often many masks, but it can thereby advance to the true nature. So the soft dreams make the compulsive desires go. If desires and wishes marry in reality, they must each other reveal their illusions. If we know the illusions of the other, we know also about his reality. And if we know about his reality, we must also accept him with our mind. Therefore we can here approach the foolish side of the person, while his reasonable side keeps us already on distance by itself. Who has come together reasonably, stays separated reasonably. Who collided foolishly, can give up in touch. We suppose the reason perhaps only behind the mask, but the true nature needs the mask not at all. The nature knows no Perhaps. If you have here no thoughts, some will come, life itself will whisper them to you. But if you have thoughts and have you examined them on their purity, now bundle your power and strive in their direction! Perhaps you can advance to the King.
"Wisch and goal, the two masks and the nature"
This scene plays at the court. The Sunday's child steps in - transformed - in the clothes of the Frog Prince. We are found in a knight hall. Somewhat raised the king's throne, behind it hangs above the bunting of Mad-Joke. Beside that stands a lectern on which lies a weighty book. Apart of the throne, but directed to it, stands the chair of the Holy Joe, in his reach a wine jug and a shell with diverse delightful fruits. The carpet is rolled out; one hears blasts on trumpets. Still nobody is present. First the Fool steps in, his robe equals that of a rag's king.
The Fool
(here creeping, there jumping, he plays on his lute and sings).
Whether I am a birch
In front of my house?
Which is not my house,
Go in and off!
Whether I - delighted in gardens -
Be myself a garden?
It is not a flower,
It is my cry!
If I stood in long rains
On wide fields,
And joined source and sea -
I was it myself!
Whether I was still more boundless
And not reconciled with any world,
Was merely a homeless fool -
Quickly is mocked so much!
(Behind a column stands visibly for the public the
Sunday's child in the clothes of the Frog Prince. She watches the fool. Since she appears as Frog Prince, the creature is called in the following constantly Frog Prince).
The Fool sits on the king's throne, cuts grimaces and makes faces. He grasps for a greaseproof paper and reads it, then he puts aside the bit of paper without looking to it and ponders for himself.
The Fool
If the gentlemen spill blood,
They must sneeze because of laugh.
Hey, hey!
The nightmare of a people, as hero of the nation,
Sits here the victim of an early hurt pride,
As last sovereign on the very last throne.
He is not to be envied.
(he jumps from the throne and then turns, as if the king would sit on it, and bows to it).
Yet it is a disgrace,
That one here is called Fool,
Because one thinks independently!
(he grasps again for the parchment, sits on the chair of the Holy Joe, rolls the paper apart and up again and plays with it).
It is thus time,
Where people say, that it snows.
Because they don't know anything more,
And where they just put aside
Like a paper a piece of past.
(he puts the paper away).
So soon is, - take care - the time,
Which by opportunity no more squashes,
But wide, and assures us, if one laughs,
We would have giggled long enough
About the inaudible power.
It is time, where gleaming rockets
Circle around the ecliptic and not far any more,
Where unasked, night expresses never again derail.
It comes the time, where in the books
Even the worms no more gnaw,
They don't like it any more cleverly
And do it then in wet cloths,
To refresh themselves of their thirst.
(he leaves the chair of the Holy Joe, puts aside his stick, takes a pear from the shell and plays with it).
He
does not crown himself as emperor,
Baptizes only himself! - but more softly.
(he comes again to the king's throne, leans on a back and speaks to the imaginary king).
And you! Hold forth, whether it
Shudders you yourself because of them: A little word here,
There a hour is chatted,
And even contracts are underpinned,
Counts a word also, which lasts somewhat longer.
(he jumps to the chairs of the judges and the councillors).
And here! And here!
What a sound!
You fart and excercise right.
Well then - exercises quite nicely!
(discerns the Sunday's child in the clothes of the Frog Prince).
Hello -- ?
The Sunday's child
(unrecognizably in the clothes of the Frog Prince)
Hello!
You, my countryman.
The Fool
Wherein?
Frog Prince
A countryman in sppuressing.
The Fool
And this says your mind?
Frog Prince
Also my Eros feels it.
The Fool
In all lengths?
Frog Prince
Perhaps you get to know?
The Fool
I only know learned boys,
Which never forgive, never forgave.
Frog Prince
Who pays your bells?
The Fool
I have my sources.
Frog Prince
And feel you nowhere at home?
The Fool
So it is! A real horror.
Frog Prince
From this horror you make foolish empty words?
The Fool
O! Yes, I feel there and here,
Make a test of the whole
And at the end hold on to somewhat.
Frog Prince
As presumptuousness walk through live:
Spin and elaborate.
And these networks sell well,
That keeps the psychologist at senses.
The Fool
(reflects about himself).
Yes, should zombies cure fools?
And at what suffers the fool?
The chastity should well make him horny,
Who neither was, nor becomes,
Who remains stiff, looks in grimaces,
Which he pulls for the gentlemen
And who, even when he spits feathers,
Also envies only himself.
Frog Prince
(points in the round).
And still I would like to come in here.
The Fool
You are already inside.
Frog Prince
Not completely alone, not only with you.
With all I would like to be here --
The Fool
You? With all? Here?
Frog Prince
So it is.
The Fool
Then say what is the fool's art?
Frog Prince
Have no scrap, no haze,
But the woman says to her husband,
That one can not live on it.
The Fool
As hybrid one often only lives on splinters of thoughts -
Frog Prince
How does one make that?
The Fool
(considers).
Always if I have to state no more,
I dodge myself around like over-weight,
That is to say, I leave myself to the situation,
One calls, what then happens: a jumble!
However not, that I now complain,
No, for it is in short a jumble,
Which each accepts gladly, who has nothing more
And it becomes precisely a criterion to that,
Whom remains nothing more, because he already gave everything.
the jumble often has of course
Such a completely bitter taste,
Therefore also his help comes unexpectedly,
It never lets without reason the cat out of the bag.
The jumble is to be prescribed:
All those, who oppress a big inner need,
At hoarseness, dislike and dark grief,
Also against each restraint which still checks.
Frog Prince
Dawdles one not away his time
With such bliss,
Which make one believe - almost -
One is perfect?
The Fool
Ho, ho!
What you call "Time",
Recognize here blurred!
(he strolls to the chair of the Hole Joe, then to the king's throne. At the chair of the Holy Joe).
He here
from the ground staff
Has his subscribers,
You know the happy mail!
Who has no choice, has instead the torment:
He is responsible for their yoke.
(he goes to the king's throne).
They here talk completely peacefully,
Where rage wars in other parts.
For like in all times,
Man increases himself the opportunity,
Through power and right,
Through exercise, cunning and riding paragraphs,
To lead the fight to war
And soon to contest it no more.
(bows himself before the throne).
Coincidences he can count
And number wars,
There will not be missing one,
He
can not be disgraced.
It will last no more,
He promised this world,
And it be without walls,
An open sea and field!
Only who helps him to conquer
That
he lets survive,
Are there flags, anthems, are there intrigues,
He knows enough from that.
Still of course stand the rockets
And breeders dumb in the nest
However loaded and asked,
They are guests for his party.
Oh! --
He has already his pillars,
For which life atones,
The lust makes it still lecherous,
Because it greets at the end.
If one a whole life
Was nothing, as only a king,
One is just concededly
Not rarity, - only scarce.
And to outweigh this
Stand the rockets just right,
To conquer the "Evil",
Was never a reason too bad.
He will try them,
As long as he still has time
And a later debating
Unfortunately takes place no more.
(he sits down on the throne).
First he invented these weapons,
Now he talks from humaneness
And loves since latest time the masses,
For his weapons he feels sorry.
That a findung never works
If that, what it finally intends,
Has not token place in the head,
Only has not discovered the mass.
They develop weapons,
To finish wars.
One imagine that!
The brain-stem of such super apes
Can be arbitrarily often used,
Loves the chimera yet the chlorine.
Incapable they are and out of senses,
Who produce such wars,
Bad counceled in the perishing,
To win nothing as battles
And be it on hands and knees
One must nevertheless achieve it.
(he climbs again from the throne).
And if then such a king says:
"The Bad ones are over there!"
And dares to say "truths",
Where other people lie;
Brings just a flyer a letter,
Even not to say telegram,
For "Top Secret" usually is written crooked
And lets the hearts beat go faster;
Yet "secretly" is called for everybody,
What each then can understand, --
One reads it now since days.
(completely foolish).
The sheriff here! there dead Indians!
The king - and that is annoyingly -
Loves his sheriff nevertheless very much,
He is like him, - otherwise Anglican;
Also about it just a little word more -
Frog Prince
One feels this here is from first hand!
The Fool
(scheming)
A king, so far not in the picture:
That this
here
dows not fit him
there
,
Is that, who knows this, up to something,
What
he,
who can not know this, already hates.
Frog Prince
For that, who
"knows nothing",
then deals with it?
The Fool
(totally confused).
The king calls the physicist,
Who, - speechless - just still gives advice,
Yet even here is advice, Sir.:
"Wave, if I give a sign!"
So sense lies down crosswise,
Has reason gained the upper hand...
And even if he would be a king
Believe me! There would not come anything better.
(he gives the chair some share of kindness and affection, so as if the king would sit on it).
So it will end, and so it once began,
One can use histories thousand times;
Yet I know, my Dear,
Since long what you mean!
(turns again completely to the Frog Prince).
But now to you!
(In the following scene follows for you: "The Adjusting")
