Die Zypressen von San Clemente
Language: German (Deutsch)
Wir biegen flammend schlanke Wipfel im Wind,
Wir schauen Gärten, welche voll Frauen sind
Und voll Spiel und Gelächter. Wir schauen Gärten,
Wo Menschen geboren und wieder begraben werden.
Wir sehen Tempel, welche vor vielen Jahren
Voll von Göttern und voll von Betenden waren.
Aber die Götter sind tot und die Tempel sind leer
Und im Grase liegen gebrochene Säulen umher.
Wir sehen Täler und sehen silberne Weiten,
Wo Menschen sich freuen, müde werden und leiden,
Wo Reiter reiten und Priester Gebete sagen,
Wo Geschlechter und Brüder einander zu Grabe tragen.
Aber des Nachts, wenn die großen Stürme kommen,
Werden wir traurig und bücken uns todbeklommen,
Stemmen die Wurzeln angstvoll und warten leise,
Ob der Tod uns erreiche, oder vorüberreise.
Translation(s): ENG FRE
List of language codes
Confirmed with Hermann Hesse, Sämtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Volker Michels, Band 10 Die Gedichte, bearbeitet von Peter Huber, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2002, pages 91-92.
Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator] and Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
Authorship
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable): - ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The cypresses of San Clemente", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Les cyprès de San Clemente", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Text added to the website: 2009-05-24.
Last modified: 2018-08-27 14:00:09
Line count: 16
Word count: 120
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The cypresses of San Clemente
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
We incline flaming slender tree-tops in the wind,
We see gardens that are full of women
And full of play and laughter. We see gardens
Where people are born and are again buried.
We see temples that, many years go,
Were full of gods and full of praying people.
But the gods are dead and the temples are empty
And round about in the grass lie broken columns.
We are valleys and see silvery expanses,
Where people are happy, grow weary and suffer,
Where riders ride and priests utter prayers,
Where generations and brethren bear each other to the grave.
But at night, when the great storms come,
We become sad and bow down, oppressed unto death,
We brace our roots anxiously and wait quietly
To see if death shall reach us, or shall travel past.
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Authorship - Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 by Sharon Krebs, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on
Text added to the website: 2018-03-03.
Last modified: 2018-03-03 13:06:43
Line count: 16
Word count: 136
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