The painting is called "Serpentina" and is dedicated to one of the most Inspired Images in the work of the great Visionary of souls - Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann. Anselm the main character of the fairy tale "The Golden Pot" falls in love with a green snake, which is the daughter of the Spirit of Fire (Salamander). This is an image of Eternal Femininity, an Imperishable Dream, The Embodiment of the Highest Poetry and Genuine Creativity, A Touch of Miracle, Divine in the earthly life.
"The Golden Pot" by E. T. A. Hoffmann
Then resounded a louder triphony of clear crystal bells: "Anselmus! dear Anselmus!" floated to him from
the leaves; and, O wonder! on the trunk of the palm-tree the green snake came winding down.
"Serpentina! Serpentina!" cried Anselmus, in the madness of highest rapture; for as he gazed more earnestly, it was in truth a lovely glorious maiden that, looking at him with those dark blue eyes, lull of inexpressible longing, as they lived in his heart, was slowly gliding down to meet him. "Dear Anselmus," began Serpentina, "you shall now be wholly mine; by your belief, by your love, you shall
obtain me, and I will bring you the Golden Flower Pot, which shall make us both happy forevermore."
"O, kind, lovely Serpentina!" said Anselmus. "If I have you, what do I care for anything else! If you are
but mine, I will joyfully give in to all the wonderful mysteries that have beset me since the moment when I first saw you."
Anselmus felt as if he were so wholly clasped and encircled by this gentle lovely form, that only with
her could he move and live, and as if it were but the beating of her pulse that throbbed through his
nerves and fibres; he listened to each one of her words till it sounded in his inmost heart, and, like a
burning ray, kindled in him the rapture of Heaven. He had put his arm round that daintier than dainty
waist; but the changeful glistering cloth of her robe was so smooth and slippery, that it seemed to him
as if she could at any moment wind herself from his arms, and glide away. He trembled at the thought.
"Ah, do not leave me, gentlest Serpentina!" cried he; "you are my life."...
the leaves; and, O wonder! on the trunk of the palm-tree the green snake came winding down.
"Serpentina! Serpentina!" cried Anselmus, in the madness of highest rapture; for as he gazed more earnestly, it was in truth a lovely glorious maiden that, looking at him with those dark blue eyes, lull of inexpressible longing, as they lived in his heart, was slowly gliding down to meet him. "Dear Anselmus," began Serpentina, "you shall now be wholly mine; by your belief, by your love, you shall
obtain me, and I will bring you the Golden Flower Pot, which shall make us both happy forevermore."
"O, kind, lovely Serpentina!" said Anselmus. "If I have you, what do I care for anything else! If you are
but mine, I will joyfully give in to all the wonderful mysteries that have beset me since the moment when I first saw you."
Anselmus felt as if he were so wholly clasped and encircled by this gentle lovely form, that only with
her could he move and live, and as if it were but the beating of her pulse that throbbed through his
nerves and fibres; he listened to each one of her words till it sounded in his inmost heart, and, like a
burning ray, kindled in him the rapture of Heaven. He had put his arm round that daintier than dainty
waist; but the changeful glistering cloth of her robe was so smooth and slippery, that it seemed to him
as if she could at any moment wind herself from his arms, and glide away. He trembled at the thought.
"Ah, do not leave me, gentlest Serpentina!" cried he; "you are my life."...
"But, my best, worthiest masters!" said the Student Anselmus, "do you not observe, then, that you are all
and sundry corked up in glass bottles, and cannot for your hearts walk a hairsbreadth?"
Here the Kreuzkirche Scholars and the Law Clerks set up a loud laugh, and cried: "The Student is mad; he
fancies himself to be sitting in a glass bottle, and is standing on the Elbe Bridge and looking right
down into the water. Let us go on our way!"
"Ah!" sighed the Student, "they have never seen the kind Serpentina; they do not know what Freedom, and
life in Love, and Belief, signify; and so by reason of their folly and low-mindedness, they do not feel
the oppression of the imprisonment into which the Salamander has cast them. But I, unhappy I, must perish
in want and woe, if she whom I so inexpressibly love does not rescue me!"...
...Then, waving in faint tinkles, Serpentina's voice flitted through the room: "Anselmus! Believe, love, hope!" Anselmus walks to the Temple: he views with inward delight the variegated marble, the steps with their strange veins of moss. "Ah, no!" cries he, as if in the excess of rapture, "she is not far from me now; she is near!" Then Serpentina advances, in the fullness of beauty and grace, from the Temple; she bears the Golden Flower Pot, from which a bright lily has sprung. The nameless rapture of infinite longing glows in her meek eyes; she looks at Anselmus, and says: "Ah! Dearest, the Lily has opened her blossom: what we longed for is fulfilled; is there a happiness to equal ours?" Anselmus clasps her with the tenderness of warmest ardour: the lily burns in flaming beams over his head. And louder move the trees and bushes; clearer and gladder play the brooks; the birds, the shining insects dance in the waves of perfume: a gay, bright rejoicing tumult, in the air, in the water, in the earth, is holding the festival of love! Now sparkling streaks rush, gleaming over all the bushes; diamonds look from the ground like shining eyes: strange vapours are wafted hither on sounding wings: they are the spirits of the elements, who do homage to the lily, and proclaim the happiness of Anselmus. Then Anselmus raises his head, as if encircled with a beamy glory. Is it looks? Is it words? Is it song? You hear the sound: "Serpentina! Belief in you, love of you has unfolded to my soul the inmost spirit of nature! You have brought me the lily, which sprang from gold, from the primeval force of the world, before Phosphorus had kindled the spark of thought; this lily is knowledge of the sacred harmony of all beings; and in this I live in highest blessedness for evermore. Yes, I, thrice happy, have perceived what was highest: I must indeed love thee forever, O Serpentina! Never shall the golden blossoms of the lily grow pale; for, like belief and love, this knowledge is eternal."
