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by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941)
Translation © by Bertram Kottmann

I asked nothing from thee
Language: English  after the Bangla (Bengali) 
Our translations:  GER
I asked nothing from thee; 
I uttered not my name to thine ear. 
When thou took'st thy leave I stood silent. 
I was alone by the well 
where the shadow of the tree fell aslant, 
and the women had gone home 
with their brown earthen pitchers full to the brim. 
They called me and shouted, 
'Come with us, the morning is wearing on to noon.' 
But I languidly lingered awhile 
lost in the midst of vague musings.

I heard not thy steps as thou camest. 
Thine eyes were sad when they fell on me; 
thy voice was tired as thou spokest low - 
'Ah, I am a thirsty traveller.' 
I started up from my day-dreams 
and poured water from my jar 
on thy joined palms. 
The leaves rustled overhead; 
the cuckoo sang from the unseen dark, 
and perfume of babla flowers 
came from the bend of the road.

I stood speecess with shame 
when my name thou didst ask. 
Indeed, what had I done for thee 
to keep me in remembrance? 
But the memory that I could give water to thee 
to allay thy thirst will cling to my heart 
and enfold it in sweetness. 
The morning hour is late, 
the bird sings in weary notes, 
neem leaves rustle overhead 
and I sit and think and think.

About the headline (FAQ)

Text Authorship:

  • by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 54, first published 1912 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Based on:

  • a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 54 [text unavailable]
    • Go to the text page.

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

  • by Margaret Lucy Wilkins (b. 1939), "The world-filling light", op. 35 no. 6 (1981) [ SATB quartet and SATB chorus a cappella ], from Six Song Offerings, no. 6 [sung text not yet checked]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in Dutch (Nederlands), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist ; composed by Frans Louis Wiemans.
    • Go to the text. [Note: the text is not in the database yet.]
  • Also set in French (Français), a translation by André Gide (1869 - 1951) , no title, appears in Gitanjali (L'Offrande lyrique), no. 54, first published 1914 ; composed by Elsa Barraine.
    • Go to the text.

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Das welterfüllende Licht", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2010-11-03
Line count: 33
Word count: 216

Das welterfüllende Licht
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Nichts habe ich von dir erbeten, 
und meinen Namen bracht’ ich dir nicht zu Gehör.
Als du nahmst Abschied von mir, stand ich stumm.
Ich war allein am Brunnen, 
auf den ein Baum quer seinen Schatten wirft.
Die Frauen waren schon nach Haus gegangen 
mit ihren braunen, irdnen Krügen bis zum Rand gefüllt.
Laut riefen sie mir zu: 
„Komm mit uns! Der Morgen schreitet auf den Mittag zu.“
Doch ich verweilte träg 
in unbestimmter Grübelei verloren.

Ich hörte deinen Schritt nicht, als du nahtest. 
Dein Blick war traurig,
als er auf mich fiel, 
und deine Stimme müde, als du leise sprachst:
„Ein durst’ger Wand’rer bin ich, ach.“ 
Ich fuhr aus meinem Tagtraum hoch,
und über deine Hände goss ich Wasser aus dem Krug.
Ein Säuseln über uns im Laub; 
der Kuckuck sang im dunklen Hain verborgen,
der Duft der Bablablüten kam von dorther, 
wo der Weg sich krümmt.

Beschämt und sprachlos stand ich, 
als nach meinem Namen du mich fragtest.
Was hatt’ ich denn für dich getan, 
dass meiner du gedenkst?
Doch die Erinn’rung, dass ich dir konnt’ Wasser geben,
zu stillen deinen Durst, 
wird sich ins Herz mir schmiegen und liebreich es umfangen.
Es ist schon spät am Morgen, 
ermattet singt der Vogel,
das Laub des Niembaums säuselt über mir, 
ich sitz’ und sinne, sinne.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.

    Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de

    If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 54, first published 1912
    • Go to the text page.

Based on:

  • a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 54 [text unavailable]
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2014-06-23
Line count: 33
Word count: 216

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This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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