Der Müllerin Nachbar
Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: ENG FRE
Die Mühle, die dreht ihre Flügel,
Der Wind, der sauset darin:
Ich wollte, ich wäre der Müller,
Von wegen der Müllerin.
Der Müller ist gestorben,
Gott schenk ihm die ewige Ruh!
Ich wollte, es holte der Henker
Den Flegel von Knecht noch dazu.
Am Sonntag in der Kirche,
Da glaubt ich, sie schiele nach mir;
Sie schielte an mir nur vorüber,
Der Knecht, der stand an der Tür.
Und als es ging zum Tanze,
Da kam sie eben mir recht,
Sie grüßte mich freundlich und fragte –
Und fragte mich gar nach dem Knecht.
Der Knecht, der Knecht! – Ich wollte...
Mir kocht in den Adern das Blut –
Ich wollte an ihm mich rächen,
Ich wollte, ich hätte den Mut.
Ich wollte... Nun, was weiß ich?
Ich weiß nicht, wo ich bin. –
Die Mühle, die dreht ihre Flügel,
Der Wind, der sauset darin.
Text 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 (Anja Bunzel) , "The mill-maid’s neighbour", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Le voisin de la meunière", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-24
Line count: 24
Word count: 145
The mill‑maid’s neighbour
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
The wind mill turns its blades,
The wind, it roars within.
I wish I was the miller,
As regards the mill-maid.
The miller has died,
May he rest in peace.
I wish the deaths man took
The servant as well.
On Sunday, in the church,
I thought she glanced at me.
But she overlooked me,
The servant was at the door.
And when the dance opened,
I luckily bumped into her.
She greeted me friendly and asked
And asked about the servant.
The servant, the servant, I want to,
The blood is boiling in my veins,
I want to get back at him,
I wish I had the courage.
I do not know what I want,
I do not know where I am.
The mill turns its blades,
The wind, it roars within.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 by Anja Bunzel, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-24
Line count: 24
Word count: 133
