Forest Spirit Quotes

“Ja tämä Henki oli Diabolus Sylvarum, Metsän ynnä Suden Henki, jolla suolla ja korvessa kotonsa on, rohkea ja pelvotoin, voiman ja vapauden henki, mutta myös raivon ja väkivallan, salattu yli kaiken ymmärryksen, siivekäs niinkuin myrskytuuli ja palava niinkuin maailman sydän, mutta kuitenkin Pimeyden kahleissa.”
― Aino Kallas, Sudenmorsian

“Observe the beauty of forest.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“Der Erlkönig

Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?-
Siehst Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif?-
Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif. -

"Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel ich mit dir;
Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand. "

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?-
Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind!
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.-

"Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein. "

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort?-
Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau.-

"Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt. "
Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!

Dem Vater grauset's, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in den Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Selected Poetry

“I am not Iron-Man, I am Forest-Man!”
― Steven Magee

“The Erl-King

O, who rides by night thro’ the woodland so wild?
It is the fond father embracing his child;
And close the boy nestles within his loved arm,
To hold himself fast, and to keep himself warm.

“O father, see yonder! see yonder!” he says;
“My boy, upon what doest thou fearfully gaze?” —
“O, ’tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud.”
“No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud.”

(Tke Erl-King speaks.)

“O come and go with me, thou loveliest child;
By many a gay sport shall thy time be beguiled;
My mother keeps for thee full many a fair toy,
And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy.”

“O, father, my father, and did you not hear
The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?” —
“Be still, my heart’s darling — my child, be at ease;
It was but the wild blast as it sung thro’ the trees.”

Erl-King.

“O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy?
My daughter shall tend thee with care and with joy;
She shall bear thee so lightly thro’ wet and thro’ wild,
And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child.”

“O father, my father, and saw you not plain,
The Erl-King’s pale daughter glide past thro’ the rain?” —
“O yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon;
It was the grey willow that danced to the moon.”

Erl-King.

“O come and go with me, no longer delay,
Or else, silly child, I will drag thee away.” —
“O father! O father! now, now keep your hold,
The Erl-King has seized me — his grasp is so cold!”

Sore trembled the father; he spurr’d thro’ the wild, Clasping close to his bosom his shuddering child;
He reaches his dwelling in doubt and in dread,
But, clasp’d to his bosom, the infant was dead!

- From the German of Goethe, translation, 1797.”
― Walter Scott, Sir Walter Scott: Complete Works

“Le Roi des Aulnes

Quel est ce chevalier qui file si tard dans la nuit et le vent?
C'est le père avec son enfant;
Il serre le petit garçon dans son bras,
Il le serre bien, il lui tient chaud.

« Mon fils, pourquoi caches-tu avec tant d'effroi ton visage?
— Père, ne vois-tu pas le Roi des Aulnes?
Le Roi des Aulnes avec sa traîne et sa couronne?
— Mon fils, c'est un banc de brouillard.

— Cher enfant, viens, pars avec moi!
Je jouerai à de très beaux jeux avec toi,
Il y a de nombreuses fleurs de toutes les couleurs sur le rivage,
Et ma mère pos sắc de de nombreux habits d'or.

— Mon père, mon père, et n'entends-tu pas,
Ce que le Roi des Aulnes me promet à voix basse?
— Sois calme, reste calme, mon enfant!
C'est le vent qui murmure dans les feuilles mortes.

— Veux-tu, gentil garçon, venir avec moi?
Mes filles s'occuperont bien de toi
Mes filles mèneront la ronde toute la nuit,
Elles te berceront de leurs chants et de leurs danses.

— Mon père, mon père, et ne vois-tu pas là-bas
Les filles du Roi des Aulnes dans ce lieu sombre?
— Mon fils, mon fils, je vois bien:
Ce sont les vieux saules qui paraissent si gris.

— Je t'aime, ton joli visage me charme,
Et si tu ne veux pas, j'utiliserai la force.
— Mon père, mon père, maintenant il m'empoigne!
Le Roi des Aulnes m'a fait mal! »

Le père frissonne d'horreur, il galope à vive allure,
Il tient dans ses bras l'enfant gémissant,
Il arrive à grand-peine à son port;
Dans ses bras l'enfant était mort.”
― Charles Nodier

“You will not find WiFi in the forest, but you will find a better connection.”
― Anthon St. Maarten

“And this spirit was the Diabolus sylvarum, the spirit of the forest and the wolves, whose home is in the marshes and the wilds, a spirit doughty and fearless, a spirit strong and free, yet also a furious one and a violent, beyond all understanding, winged like the storm-wind and burning as the heart of the world, but enslaved in the chains of Darkness.”
― Aino Kallas, Sudenmorsian

“Each of the bears had eyes that glowed like embers of a fire, flickering with an intensity that was both wild and beautiful.
"Forest spirits,"she breathed.
She'd read about them, in scholar Cypavia'sExaminations of the Function of Forest Spirits in Fact and Fiction,and she knew they weren't technically spirits. Originally, their species was from the flying islands in the far western reaches of the empire. When their kind first floated down to the islands in the sea, they hid in the forests and were mistaken for ghosts. Later, when their connection to the trees was discovered, they became known colloquially as forest spirits or tree spirits.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop

“It looked like a wave of green light, beginning with the roots and pulsing through the trunk until it split at the branches. It chased down every limb. Every branch it touched burst into life: leaves budded and then unfurled, and the most glorious scent ofgreenandlifeandspringandsummerall wrapped together filled Kiela's nose, mouth, and body. She felt as if she were breathing in the essence of the forest, alive and full of growth. Leaves layered over one another so fast that the sky disappeared and the sun vanished into a glow of green.
Pressing itself against the trunk of the sycamore, the rabbit-size cloud bear wept tears as bright as diamonds. Its tears rolled down the bark, and where they touched the soil, delicate white flowers bloomed. She'd never seen flowers like it: they were clusters of petals that glowed with the soft, white light of the full moon.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Spellshop