Erect among one another; above
A second measure, from rocks
The roof juts out. Thus it surprises
Me not, that he
Invited Hercules as guest.
Gleaming from afar. down there by Olympus.
When he in search of shade
From the sultry Isthmus came.
For full of courage were
They even there. yet there was need, for the spirits' sake.
Of cooling too. Whence that one preferred to travel
To the water's sources here and yellow banks.
Their scent wafting high above, and black
With the forest of firs, within whose depths
A hunter likes to roam
At midday, and growth can be heard
In the resinous trees of the Ister.

He appears. however, almost
To go backwards and
I presume he must come
From the East.
There would be
Much to tell of this. And why does he precisely
Cling to the mountains? The other
The Rhine has departed
Sideways. Not in vain do
Rivers run in the dry. Yet how? Namely, they are
To be to language. A sign is needed.
Nothing else, plain and simple, so that sun
And moon may be borne in mind, inseparable,
And pass on, day and night too, and
The heavenly feel themselves warm by one another.
Whence those ones too
Are the joy of the Highest. For how else would he
Descend? And like Hertha green.
They are the children of the heavens. Yet all too patient
He appears to me, not
Free, and almost to mock. Namely, when

The day is to commence
In his youth. where he begins
To grow. another there already
Drives high his splendor. and like colts
He grinds at the bit. and far away the breezes
Hear his activity.

Hölderlin’s Hymn “The Ister” (GA 53) by Martin Heidegger page 5