by
Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962)
Ihr, die ihr geht an mir vorbei
Language: German (Deutsch)
Available translation(s): ENG FRE
Ihr, die ihr geht an mir vorbei
So furchtsam und bescheiden,
Ihr wisset nicht, was Leiden
Und wisset nicht, was Liebe sei.
Und auch den Garten kennt ihr nicht,
Den schwülen Träumegarten,
Wo Rosen sterbend warten,
Und jedes Scharlachblatt ist ein Gedicht.
Ihr geht vorbei und scheuet schier
Mich anzuschaun ein wenig,
Und doch bin ich ein König
Und hundertmal so stolz und reich als ihr!
About the headline (FAQ)
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Confirmed with Hermann Hesse, Sämtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Volker Michels, Band 10 Die Gedichte, bearbeitet von Peter Huber, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2002, page 64.
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 (Sharon Krebs) , no title, copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Vous qui passez près de moi", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2014-08-19
Line count: 12
Word count: 66
You who walk past me
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch)
You who walk past me
So timidly and unobtrusively,
You do not know what suffering is
And do not know what love is.
And you also do not know the garden,
That sweltering dream-garden,
Where roses, dying, wait,
And every crimson petal is a poem.
You walk past and almost eschew
To look at me even a little,
And yet I am a king
Who is a hundred times as proud and rich as you!
About the headline (FAQ)
The Drunkard, no. 1.
Authorship:
- 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:
This text was added to the website: 2014-08-20
Line count: 12
Word count: 75