Lily — Hierophant, Third Scene

Image not included in the drama

LILY [to the child]:
Look again and again
At how the four images
Follow one another,
And you will want to tell me
That the images tell you.

LILY: I cannot keep it from you,
My friend causes me serious concern.
You know better than I can know,
Where the path will lead him,
That you have shown him.
I can see your light.
You have taken the darkness from me;
That is why mistrust can never assail me
In the brightness of the spiritual world.
And that you will bring
The light of the future,
That I am certain of.
But I can suffer with everything
That lives at all times.
And so I suffer with my friend.
I feel the power of your words,
But I see the will of men distancing itself
More and more from what lies in those words.
I myself live entirely in these words;
But the world becomes ever more foreign to me.
I have come to terms with this,
But I know from you yourselves
That the bond that weaves
From spirit to matter
Must not be completely severed. In the child who just left us,
I sought to preserve it. As a foundling, it was once
Placed at my door.
I raised it, shaping it into action,
What you call becoming human,
And once again it gave me proof
Of how infinitely deep within the child slumbers
The primordial germ of the world, which your words interpret.
I had our friend paint
The becoming of the insect
In meaningful pictures,¹
Following the mysterious life
From egg through caterpillar and chrysalis
To butterfly.
In the childishly pure pictures,
Which, full of life,
Revealed to me the young soul,
Lie the seeds of full understanding,
How the human self encompasses
The mirror of the universe
And how it harbors and releases
The spiritual body within itself.
And how this body
Spins itself into an ethereal form
And unfolds into physical existence
Through the light forces of the sun.
In beautiful harmony of forces
One could see
The child's being develop day by day.
But now I face
The most difficult of my trials.
It is impossible to keep the child
Any longer within the circle of our world.
The rules of becoming seemed to work wonders on the child's soul,
So finely attuned to genuine reality.
Unaware of itself,
What was to be revealed
From the seeds of its being Was at work within the child until recently.
From the seeds of its being.
It has now entered the age
Where feelings, born from the depths of the self,
Awaken within the human being,
And what has been revealed
Inclines itself toward me in love.
The child begins to want
To feel my personality
As its role model.
And already undesirable fruit is showing.
The child's gaze becomes shy,
And carelessness creeps into its whole being.
It also becomes physically inept,
And one can see its mind becoming dull.
So I see my nature intruding
Disturbingly into the young human sprout,
And separation is inevitable.
The last thing that connected me
To the traditional world,
Falls away with the little one.
I can only live in spirit;
I am denied the ability to act alone,
And with my whole being
I seem to be transported into truth,
But in truth,
Reality is lost.
I thought I would hold on to my friend's strength,
Until he awakens the slumbering being within himself.
He seems to sink into the abyss,
And it seems to me that
With him, the world disappears.
I look ahead
And I see light,
But before the light
The abyss.
How to cross it,
To know that through you
My soul now desires.

HIROPHANT: Your spirit will always carry you
Into the light of eternity.
The horrors of darkness
Are spared you.
But not the wounds of the soul.
Suffering through the pains of time,
I cannot spare you.
To see the light,
Is your gift;
To know what you have seen,
Lies beyond your circle.
Therefore I must show you
The path now.
For approaching your heart
Is the deepest pain in the world.
You must feel
What in this hour of the world
Will tremble with horror
As sorrow through all beings.
How must man die
To rise again
With the fruitful powers
Of a life spent,
So must be torn apart
The old bonds of happiness,
Which for a thousand years
Have bound to the spirit
The dull life of matter,
So that a new happiness
May blossom in the dust of the old.
It is reflected in your soul,
What is painfully experienced
At the turn of the millennium
By the world that has grown old.
Its consciousness
Has been withdrawn. In its archetypes
Only the painful change
Takes place,
Visible and tangible
Only to the seers,
Who look behind the veil of existence.
But I have chosen you
To be the mirror of events.
Your infinite loss,
Which painfully gnaws at your soul,
Is the image of the world's fate.
You feel what millions experience,
But to feel it
They lack spiritual sensitivity.
But from the heaviest suffering
The happiness of a new age will be born.
Your soul power will be foreign
To the old human abilities,
But new powers of human beings will emerge from the abyss,
And you must be their helper.
And you must be a helper
In their becoming.
In a favorable hour,
Your friend experiences the transformation
Of his own being.
His dormant powers
Are difficult to bring forth,
Because the world spirits
Are accomplishing
Other work.
They shape in human souls
The seeds of future clairvoyance.
The epoch is dawning
When it will be possible
To see into the spirit world
Even for the soul
That only grows in everyday life.
And when the bond is torn
From one side,
That binds the spirit
To the material world,
A luminous web will be woven
From the other side.
Therefore, in the greatest misfortune,
Seek the preparatory ground
For the highest happiness.

LILY: I know that a person
Must consciously bear
What unconsciously
Flows away for others.
So I will bear the wounded soul
With the burning fire
Of infinite renunciation.
They would be hard to bear,
If the wounds were spread
Over thousands of years.
But I must live them
In such a short time.
There was also a time for me
When I could cry in sorrow
At the soul of a friend
And find relief from the pain.
It is long gone.
And eternities seem to me
To lie between that age
And what I am now experiencing.
I must not demand back what I have lost.
Nor must I lament it.
In this time, there would be
No one who, as a vain dream,
Would reject what is infinite suffering
In my heart.
My sufferings would seem small
To the everyday ones
Compared to theirs
And my fate
They would find a shadow
Next to their realities.
Only my pain allows me to recognize,
Venerable Father,
Your caring wisdom.
You have, in a special way,
Led me to the point
Where I should get to know
The suffering of the world
At the center of its being.
You kept me distant before
From everything that leads to the higher
Spheres of light.
Had I entered them too soon,
My world today would be empty.
But instead, you let me wander
Through the vastness of time,
To experience the everyday.
I experienced life's conflicts,
When I was far from
Being able to grasp them in ideas.
My soul learned to love
And learned anger,
Since it did not suspect
That there is appeasement
For love and anger.
My soul was allowed to be young
And revel in everything
That uplifts people;
It was allowed to enjoy the fruits of the arts
And immerse itself in the blissful joys of nature.
I could laugh once,
As only children laugh;
I could cry
Like people who banish pain.
I was allowed to do all this in times
That followed one another in my being,
So that now, dwelling in heights of light,
Nothing takes away from my experiences,
So that in every moment
I can live
What the most childlike soul rejoices in,
What the art-loving heart longs for.
And when living-dead spirits
Proclaim: the great deception
Is the world, —
Then in the abyss of suffering
And on the heights of light
My heart says: eternal truth
Lives in everything, lives in the smallest speck of color,
Lives in the sparkling ray of sunshine,
Reflected in a drop of dew,
Lives in the jubilant,
Lives in the disappointed human heart.