Language: German (Deutsch)
Es glüht im Fieber das graue Haus,
Lichtstreifen fallen breit hinaus
Auf sommertrübe Gassen,
Es flammt der Saal von Kerzen ganz,
Und wir beide tanzen den letzten Tanz
Eh' wir uns müssen lassen.
Ich bin gezogen von Meer zu Meer,
Und als ich heimkam, die Taschen schwer,
Warst Du die Braut eines Andern;
Die Spatzen riefen's von jedem Dach,
Die Basen zischten und sprachen's nach:
Das kommt vom Wandern, vom Wandern.
Wir tanzen als habe der Tod Dich gepackt,
Es fegt Deine Schleppe spitzengezackt
In welken Orangenzweigen,
Schon geht der Zeiger auf Mitternacht,
Dein junger Gemahl er sieht's und lacht --
Es schluchzen so wild die Geigen . .
Ich wollte, wir irrten im nordischen Land
Von keinem geliebt, von keinem gekannt,
Im Schneesturm über die Heide,
Und daß Du ruhtest unbewußt
In meinem Mantel, an meiner Brust,
Und daß wir stürben beide.
List of language codes
Submitted by Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
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, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , title 1: "Last dance", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Text added to the website: 2011-07-23.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:11
Line count: 24
Word count: 142
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Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
The grey house glows as if in a fever,
Swathes of light fall from it widely
Upon the summer-bleached streets.
The hall is completely aflame with candles,
And we two dance the last dance
Before we must part from each other.
I travelled from sea to sea,
And when I came home with heavy pockets,
You were the bride of another;
The sparrows were calling the news from every rooftop,
The cousins hissed it and spread it about:
That's what comes of going off wandering, wandering.
We dance as if death had seized you,
The train of your dress, edged with lace,
Drags through the wilted orange [blossom] twigs,
The clock hands are already approaching midnight,
Your young husband sees it and laughs --
The violins are sobbing so wildly . .
I would we were straying about in a Nordic land
Loved by no one, known by no one,
In a snowstorm over the heath,
And that you were resting unconsciously
Within my coat, upon my breast,
And that we would both die.
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- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2013 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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Text added to the website: 2013-11-18.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:23
Line count: 24
Word count: 173