The Pilgrimage of the Rose

Chorus of women:
 The spring breezes carry
 The world's greeting of love.1
 The shackles of ice are breaking,
 The barren field is turning green.

 The first flowers emerge
 From the green expanse of the meadow,
 And with childlike eyes they gaze
 At us like calves in springtime.

 In a chartreuse garment
 Richly embroidered with blossoms,
 Every tree has adorned itself
 For the joy of Eastertide.

 O blessed Springtime!
 You dry the silent tears
 That the longings of our hearts
 Have shed in deepest sorrow.

 In many a wintry breast
 Your Sunday chimes are sounding too,
 And many a seed of happiness.
 Is awakening to new joy.

Tenor Solo:
 St. John's day had come,
 The wedding day of the world,
 When she [the world] lies like a bride
 On the bosom of beloved spring.

 The quiet night veils
 The slumber of nature.
 The pale light of the moon
 Wanders through the grove and fields.

 The little leaves are whirring
 Almost inaudibly in the tree.
 Around the reeds and waterlilies
 Waft sleep and evening dreams.

Alto Solo:
 What magical singing
 Sounds on yonder meadow?
 And under the spring grasses
 What fantastical sounds?

Choir of the Fairies:
 We dance, we dance
 In the lovely night,
 Till from slumber the day
 Awakens in the morning light,

 Till the flower from the dew
 Drinks new life
 Far upward, full of the joy of song,
 The lark soars.

Tenor Solo:
 And as they sang, they hear
 A gentle, lamenting melody.
 At once the dance that had spun dizzily halts
 And everyone listens to the song.

Rose:
 Spring has come again,
 Has called out:  "Arise, awake!"
 What use is the blossoming to me,
 Whose heart has broken with yearning?

 When the maidens play with me caressingly,
 When their song sings of love,
 I lament that for us poor roses
 Never blooms a springtime of love!

Fairy Queen:
 You foolish child,
 You wish to have the joy of love.
 It is well for you that of its pains
 You have known nothing until this spring.

Rose:
 I wish to bear it, all the pain,
 I feel I am strong!

Fairy Queen:
 You, little rose, you?
 You wish to leave our realm
 Where joy and peace reign eternally?

Rose:
 Oh let me become a maiden.
 Let me love as maidens do!

Fairy Queen:
 If that's what you desire, little rose, so be it!
 For mankind refers to maidens
 As the image of roses;
 The rose shall become a maiden,
 And so the saying shall come true!

 And you shall carry a rose,
 With which I grant you immunity and salvation!
 To whomever holds it [the rose], the joys of the world,
 The purest [joys] shall be given.

 But take care to remember that if the rose ever falls from your hand,
 You shall forfeit your life,
 But not for long!
 A breath of spring shall lead you as a rose,
 Back to your homeland.

Choir of the Fairies:
 We dance, we dance
 In the lovely night,
 Till from slumber the day
 Awakens in the morning light,

 Till the flower from the dew
 Drinks new life
 Far upward, full of the joy of song,
 The lark soars.

Tenor Solo:
 Thus they sang; then it was already dawn,
 A bird sings in the morning slumber,
 The world awakens to new joy,
 To new pain, to new sorrow.

 And in a flash the fairies' airy swarm
 Has disappeared, -
 Only a silvery stripe in the meadow
 Betrays where they were.

 The beautiful rose-child opens,
 Her eyes, as if still dreaming.
 A freshly fragrant morning wind
 Scatters apple blossoms in her hair;

 A little rose, glowing in the morning light,
 Blooms full of meaning on her breast.

Rose:
 Where am I?
 Is it real, is it a dream?
 No, no, it is no magical image;
 As a maiden walking upon the earth
 I shall become happy through love.

Tenor Solo:
 She quietly climbs the hill,
 There before her gaze
 The wide valley presents itself resplendently,
 Bordered by woodlands.
 She soon reaches the door of the first house
 She enters and graciously asks
 For shelter.

Rose:
 I am a poor orphan,
 Whose loved ones have died.

Martha:
 Do you have some references, some paperwork
 To show that one could trust you?

Rose:
 Oh no!
 If my pleading does not move you -

Martha:
 Pity bears sour fruits.
 If one has the likes of you in house,
 Peace and quiet generally tend to flee.
 Get you gone!

Rose:
 O kindly take me in,
 I will reward you for what you do for me
 With my heart's blood.

Martha:
 It is easy to promise much with [mere] words.
 Go, knock over there on my neighbour's door!
 Go away!

Tenor solo:
 It was the rose's first pain.
 Seeking comfort she looked toward heaven
 And onward in the evening glow
 The flower-queen quietly wanders.

 A lonely, unpretentious house
 Her eye now spies again.
 Leaning against the graveyard [wall]
 Beautified on all sides by lilacs;

 Through the open gate stand cross and stone
 Transfigured by the golden evening light.
 She enters, there stands an aged man,
 Bent is his silvery head,

 He digs - the spade in his hand,
 A grave into the green land.

Rose:
 For whom is this grave here, deep and small?

Gravedigger:
 For our miller's little daughter.

Rose:
 Oh poor sister, deeply mourned!-

Gravedigger:
 It was a hard death -- a death full of pain
 To die of a broken heart --

Rose:
 How shall I interpret your words?
 Does true love bring such suffering?

Gravedigger:
 Who loved deeply and was betrayed,
 Death was his lot -
 He will be healed of his pain
 Only in the motherly bosom of the earth.-

Rose:
 Oh sister, deeply mourned!-

Gravedigger:
 But see, there comes with doleful dirge
 The funeral cortege along the road.

Chorus:
 How leaves upon trees,
 How flowers decay
 How downy blossoms
 Are scattered by the wind,

 Thus passes
 Life's Maytime.
 Before we realize it,
 The grave covers
 The good and beautiful things
 Life gave us.

Rose:
 Oh sister, deeply mourned!-

Chorus:
 We cast into your early grave
 Flowers prayerfully down.

Gravedigger:
 May the sod rest lightly upon you!

Chorus:
 We give you back to the earth,
 Our hope, our joy.

Rose:
 Sleep softly!

Chorus:
 Pain walked with us out to the grave,
 Pain walks with us into the house of mourning!

Rose:
 Rest softly! [Rest in peace]

Tenor Solo:
 The last clod of earth has rolled down [into the grave],
 That last tear has been dedicated [to her];
 And quietly homeward wandered those who
 Had accompanied the miller's child to her final resting-place.

 The gravedigger, too, leaves the graveside,
 Only the maiden still kneels at the grave.
 Already twinkles from the deep blue heavens
 The stars' golden, shining swarm.

 The moonlight listens through the foliage of the lime trees,
 As if it were trying to find something dear.
 The wandering girl rises to her feet,
 And walks towards the gate of cemetery.

Gravedigger:
 Where are you going? The night grows damp.

Rose:
 I am guided homeward by the glory of the stars.

Gravedigger:
 Child, imagine it is the wish of your father:
 Spend the night in my cottage,
 The little that I have,
 I will bestow upon you, my child.

Rose:
 I thank you - with new love of life
 Your friendly words fill my breast -
 I will follow you, until the morning light breaks
 I will, my father, be your guest.

Gravedigger:
 You see that my walls are without ornament.

Rose:
 The little wreath there hanging from a white ribbon?

Gravedigger:
 I count that as my greatest treasure;
 My dear wife, who rests out there [in the graveyard],
 Wore this wreath in her blonde hair,
 When she became mine before the altar.

 But let the dead rest -
 They have peace now.
 May God send angels to guard us
 During our sleep this night.

Rose:
 May it [the guard of angels] protect you, as it protects all the righteous.

Gravedigger:
 Sleep well!

Rose:
 Thanks be to you, Lord, in the starry realm,
 You led me as by a father's hand,
 And into the cup of sorrow fell
 A drop from Heaven, sweet and cool.

 Now may rest grant to me, the tired one,
 That, strengthened, I may gaze
 Toward the new day, whatever it brings.
(as she falls asleep)
 I wonder if they think of me?

Choir of Fairies:
 Little sister!
 Don't you hear in the starlight
 Our song,
 Don't you hear the delicate bells,
 Descendant of roses?
 Don't you hear in the starlight
 The song of the fairies?

 Don't let yourself be led astray,
 Return to us,
 Do not set your hopes on happiness!

 Only here with us,
 In the kingdom of the fairies,
 Happiness dwells,
 But pain and suffering
 [Dwell] in the human breast.

 Little sister!
 Don't you hear in your dreams
 Our greeting?
 Don't you feel in the moonlight
 Our kiss?

 Don't let yourself be led astray,
 Return to us,
 Do not set your hopes on happiness!

 Do you imagine that upon the earth
 Permanent happiness dwells?
 In the tear of pain
 The gaze of joy dies.

 Little rose, return to us,
 Do not set your hopes on happiness!
 Return to us!

Tenor solo:
 Into the house of the gravedigger
 Through the window,
 Twined about with a screen of ivy,
 Falls the lovely morning light.
 With a soft greeting, the old man
 Awakens the pilgrim girl.

Rose:
 I thank you for your kindness,
 Now I must wander onward,
 And if you would lay your hands
 Upon my head, my father,
 Only gladdened by your blessing
 Will I leave you.

Gravedigger:
 Oh happy, thrice-happy is he
 Who kisses you as his daughter.
 Attend to my request:  follow me,
 I shall give you devoted parents.

Tenor solo:
 The rose sinks upon his breast,
 She greets the first joy of her life.

[ ... ]

Between green trees
The miller's house,
As if it were the domicile of peace,
Gazes out at the valley.

The wild wave of the forest stream
Drives the rapid wheel,
Which, like the longing of love,
Never ceases.

In the adjacent little garden
The joy of springtime
With fresh flowers is adorning
Its curls, hair and breast.

The green tendrils of ivy
Have delicately spanned
The garden wall
With a net of leaves.

[ ... ]

Tenor solo:
  Led by the old man,
  With the sunbeams,
  The girl-rose comes
  To the mill in the valley.
 
Gravedigger:
  Upon this bench, by lime trees
  Shaded, await me!
 
Rose:
  May God bless your footsteps!
  So shall the greatest happiness on earth,
  Much longed for, yet come to me,
  That a parent's heart shall partake
  Of my sorrows and my joys?

Gravedigger:
  Dear child, come in to us!
 
Miller:
  How can this be? Is it an illusion?
 
Miller's wife:
  She looks exactly like our daughter.
 
Rose:
  I am so happy - it's wonderful.
 
Gravedigger:
  Now, dear people, was I right?
 
Miller:
  Whatever you say turns out to be true.
 
Gravedigger:
  Is she not a fine-looking girl?
  Just like a rose, so delicate and pretty?
 
Miller:
  One can read it clearly in her eyes:
  I am worthy of your trust.
 
Miller's wife:
  Therefore, in our bosom and our house,
  Fill the empty place of the deceased.
 
Rose:
  Oh rapture, oh you joy of heaven,
  You take me to your bosom as parents;
  Take the whole treasure of my love,
  Only let me remain in this dear place.
 
Miller and Miller's wife:
  Oh rapture, oh you joy of heaven,
  We hold you to our bosom,
  We give you the best place
  May your love be a replacement for us.

Gravedigger:
  Oh rapture, oh you joy of heaven,
  She rests upon the bosom of loyal parents;
  Thus in this place she shall find
  Recompense now for many a sorrow.

Tenor solo:
  Soon the new daughter has
  Captured her parents' hearts completely,
  And for the departed daughter remains
  Only the pain of melancholy.
 
  In the whole village, near and far,
  There is no one who does not love her,
  In the whole village, near and far,
  There is not one person whom she aggrieves.
 
  "Beautiful rose",
  Sighs many a heart,
  "You sweet delight of my eyes,
  Ah might I rest blissfully
  Upon your flowering bosom!"

Men's chorus:
  Have you walked in the forest,
  When it rustles so secretly,
  When from within the high bushes
  The wild animals prick up their ears to listen?
 
  Have you walked in the forest,
  In the early morning light,
  When the firs stand crimson
  In the shining light of the morn?
 
  Did you truly comprehend there
  The magical green of the forest,
  The sweet secret rustling,
  And its melodies?
 
  O heart, if the world
  Breaks the promises it made you,
  When love and faithfulness
  Break their vows with dreadful duplicity,
 
  Then the forest calls, "Come,
  Come here to my restfulness,
  My quiet, cool soughing
  Shall healingly kiss your wounds."
 
  Have you lingered in the forest,
  When it quietens toward evening,
  And only through the dark firs
  The last ray of light meanders;
 
  Have you lingered in the forest,
  When the moonlight
  Like a silver drapery
  Is twined about every tree;
 
  Have you not there, pressed
  Against the heart of the forest,
  Blissfully sent up
  Your evening prayer to heaven?
 
  O heart, when people
  Wound you unto death,
  Then utter your lament, trustingly
  Tell your woes to the forest.
 
  Then from its darkness,
  From its wondrous green,
  The angel of comfort shall come
  Into your heart, bringing bliss.

Alto solo:
  In the forest, leaning against the trunk,
  Against the old oak tree,
  There tarries the son of the forester
  As if sunk in dreams.
 
  He loves the miller's daughter
  So deeply, more deeply than anyone,
  And wanders about in sweet dreams
  Of love's joy.
 
  He asks the star-shaped flowers,
  Asks them day and after,
  And doesn't dare to believe the "yes"
  That the oracle uttered.

Women's chorus:
  Evening slumber
  Embraces the meadow.
  Only the little Rose is awake
  In love's sorrow.
 
  She gazes into
  The moonlit night,
  And full of longing
  She thinks of him.
 
  His song sounds
  From the forest,
  Such that the joy of springtime
  Echoes into her heart.
 
Tenor solo:
  I know a little Rose,
  Resplendent in the glow of spring,
  I would dearly love to ask her:
  "Would you be my little Rose?"
 
Rose:
  Sleep well, you dear singer!
 
Tenor solo:
  And whenever I come to ask,
  She looks at me so graciously,
  That suddenly
  All my courage deserts me.
 
Rose:
  Sleep well, you dear singer!
  Your little Rose blooms for you.
 
Tenor solo:
  Does not the heart within your bosom
  Tell you, Rose full of the glow of springtime:
 
Rose:
  Only come soon, beloved of my heart,
  Come soon to her and say:
 
Tenor solo:
  "I will never belong to anyone else
  But will only be his Rose."
 
Rose:
  I wish to become your Rose,
  You shall become my springtime.
  Come, with your kisses awaken me
  From my winter's sleep!
 
Tenor solo:
  Does not the heart within your bosom
  Tell you, Rose full of the glow of springtime:
  "I will never belong to anyone else
  But will only be his Rose."

O blessed time, when in the breast
Love burgeons,
And as with the light of morning her countenance
Glows in its joy -
[ ... ]

Bass Solo:
  Who comes on a Sunday morning
  In a festive green coat?
  It is the son of the forester,
  Who is courting the beautiful little Rose.
 
  And as the miller asks her
  What her heart is telling her,
  She bashfully hides her face
  Upon his breast.
 
  With both her arms she embraces
  Tightly the beloved man,
  Thus the ivy trustingly
  Winds itself about the oak tree.

Women's chorus:
  Ah mill, dear mill,
  How festive you look today!
  Bedecked with flowers, you look like you're
  Wearing your Sunday best.
 
  Even your dormers you have
  Richly adorned with wreaths.
  Thus joyfully you have never
  Looked into the valley
 
  Ah forest stream, how decorously
  You saunter past the house!
  You diligent millwheel,
  Today you are having a holiday,
 
  Ah squires, dear squires,
  How festive you look today!
  You're wearing, decorated with ribbons,
  Your Sunday best.
 
  You have richly decorated
  Your new hats with flowers
  And coquettishly pressed them properly
  Slantwise upon your heads.
 
  Ah, squires - why are resting
  Today on a weekday
  The diligent millwheel
  And you, the diligent people?

Chorus:
 Why are the horns resounding
 In the dim early light of morning?
 Why are they performing a serenade
 Before the door of her chamber?
 Nuptials are being celebrated!
 Word, ah so sweet!
 It is the key to the snug
 Paradise of marriage!
 Nuptials are being celebrated!
 Little Rose, get up, awaken,
 Celebrate happily
 The last day of your maidenhood!

Soprano:
 The churchbells ring,
 And before the Saviour's image
 From out of their dream
 Reality has revealed itself beautifully.

Women's Chorus:
 The union of [their] faithful hearts
 Has been sanctified by the priest,
 Their vow of faithful love
 Has been recorded by eternity.

Chorus:
 In the house of the miller,
 Violins resound,
 The young lads are leaping
 About in a whirling dance,

 The glasses are clinking,
 And cheering is mingled with these sounds.
 A marriage is being celebrated -- 
 [Marriage --] ah, word so sweet.

 In the house of the miller
 The floorboards shake,
 The colourful throng
 Surges and swells,

 And everyone rejoices: "Hurrah,
 Long live the bride and groom!"
 A marriage is being celebrated -- 
 [Marriage --] ah, word so sweet.

Tenor:
 And after a year had passed,
 Her little bud Beautiful-Rose kisses tenderly.
 It rests, rocked by the joy of motherhood,
 With blue eyes upon her breast.
 It smiles and the little hands reach out
 As if to embrace the mother's love;
 She, however, gazes up to God
 Through a veil of tears, in fervent gratitude.
 She takes the rose, her assurance of life,
 And gives it to the child with shaking hand.

Rose:
 Take my talisman, you little heart,
 I go home happy;
 Earthly joy was mine,
 After such happiness there is no other;
 Farewell, my child, - you loyal husband,
 My pilgrimage is at an end.
 I depart without pain and sorrow,
 Because I pass from here in joy.
 This is no pallid, dark death,
 This is a death full of sunrise!

Tenor:
 And while she is still speaking so quietly,
 The light of spring in her eyes is extinguished.

Women's Chorus (Angel Voices):
 Little rose!
 Not to your flowers,
 But to us, to the higher light,
 Rise up,
 So that you may see
 From Heaven's heights,
 How your delicate blossom
 Blooms and flourishes, -
 So that you once may receive it,
 When [your blossom] brings back
 To you the rose unsullied!
 We greet you,
 Lovely Rose! -