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Die Mühle

Language: German (Deutsch) after the Plattdeutsch

Der Tag geht zur Ruh,
Auf dem Gras liegt der Thau,
Die Wolken am Himmel sich röthen.
Es ist alles so still,
Weiß nicht was ich will,
Ich glaub, mir ist traurig zu Muth.

Der Frosch quakt im Rohr,
Der Fuchs braut im Moor,
Und weit aus der Ferne schallt Gesang.
Mein Herz schwillt empor,
Weiß nicht was ich seh,
Thränen rinnen die Wangen entlang.

Da hinter der Weide,
Weit über die Heide,
Da schimmert am Himmel eine Mühle:
Es ist mir als wär
Ich da vor der Thür,
Und saß auf dem Mühlberg und spielt.

Dann schaute Einer heraus,
Den kannt ich so gut,
Dem saß ich so oft auf dem Schooß;
Der Stein lief und klang,
Der Mann saß und sang,
Am Himmel die Wolken warn roth.

Da war ich noch klein,
Nun bin ich allein,
Wer weiß ob der Alte da noch steht?
Die Luft ist so laulich --
Das Lied ist so traurig:
Gottlob daß die Mühle noch geht!

Translation(s): ENG

List of language codes

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


Based on

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: "The mill", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website: 2010-10-06.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:02
Line count: 30
Word count: 162

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The mill

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

The day goes to rest,
The dew lies upon the grass,
The clouds in the heavens become rosy.
Everything is so quiet,
I know not what I want,
I believe that I am melancholy.

The frog croaks in the reeds,
The fox is skulking about on the moor,
From far in the distance I hear singing.
My heart swells upward,
I know not what I see,
Tears run down my cheeks.

There behind the willow,
Far across the moorland,
There a mill shimmers against the sky:
It seems as if I were
There before the door
And sat on the mill-hill and played.

Then one looked out,
I knew him so well,
I often sat upon his lap;
The mill-stone ran and clanked,
The man sat and sang,
The clouds in the heavens were red.

I was still small then,
Now I am alone,
Who knows if the old man still stands there?
The air is so balmy --
The song is so sad:
Praise God that the mill is still working!

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  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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
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Text added to the website: 2014-02-13.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:29
Line count: 30
Word count: 171