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Wüstenklänge

Language: German (Deutsch)

Andalusiens Zaubergarten
Schauert nächtlich Blüthen nieder,
Auf des dunkeln Wüstensohnes
Stürmisch heiße Liebeslieder.
Ach! er sucht die Wüstenblume,
Sucht die flüchtige Gazelle,
Die Oasis seiner Augen,
Seines Herzens frische Quelle.
Und er hemmt den Strom der Lieder,
Athemlos hinauszulauschen,
Zärtlich senden weiße Blumen
Ihren Duft, ihn zu berauschen.
Reich geschmückt, von Golde glänzend,
Steht das Haus im Mondenscheine.
Stille rings; nur seine Klage
Zittert durch die Nacht alleine.
Nicht Paläste hat die Wüste,
Doch der Theuern Zelt zu schmücken,
Wagt er manchen blutgen Kriegszug,
Nur nach neuen Teppichstücken,
Nur um ihre beiden Grübchen,
Ihrer Zähne Glanz zu schauen,
Während ihre Worte perlend
Auf sein heißes Herze thauen.
Als ein fremder Scheich sie raubte,
Hört er ihren Angstruf hallen,
Auf dem Hengste hat er windschnell
Ihren Räuber überfallen.
Blutig war und heiß das Ringen,
Bis der Scheich sich wälzt im Sande,
Bis sein Falkenauge brechend
Zu ihr schweift im letzten Brande. -
"Ewig will ich Dir gehören!"
Sprach sie sanft, den Hengst besteigend,
Und an seine Brust ihr Köpfchen
Ohne Widerstreben neigend.
Doch, als wieder er gekommen,
Sie zu mahnen, sie zu fragen,
War verschwunden die Geliebte,
Vom Samume fortgetragen.
Furchtbar war sein Schmerz zu schauen:
Mit zerrissenem Gewande
Fluchte er der Maid, dem Schicksal,
Stöhnend in dem heißen Sande,
Raffte sich empor, um hallend,
Weithin einen Schwur zu schwören,
Durch die ganze Welt das Mägdlein
Nie zu suchen aufzuhören.
Andalusiens Zaubergarten
Hat ihn endlich aufgenommen,
Und vor ihres Hauses Schwelle
Ist er singend angekommen.
Nacht um Nacht will mit den Liedern
Aus der Heimat er sie rühren,
Um sie, in den starken Armen,
In die Wüste zu entführen.
Aber Andalusiens Düfte
Haben sie zu lind umfangen,
Nach der ernsten Heimath hegt sie
Wohl schon längst nicht mehr Verlangen!

Horch! da nah'n Gazellenschritte,
Und Gazellenaugen leuchten!
Will der Thau vom Himmel fallen,
Um die Erde zu befeuchten?
Und zwei weiße Arme schlingen
Sich um seinen Nacken; Flehen
Klingt in seinem Ohre: "Trauter!
Liebst du mich, so mußt Du gehen!
Jedes Deiner süßen Lieder
Bringt nur Bangen, Schmerz und Noth mir,
Deine Liebe zu genießen,
Brächte mir den sichern Tod mir.
Die Gazelle liegt gefangen,
Hat die Freiheit fast vergessen,
Darf im Traume kaum mehr wissen,
Daß sie Dich dereinst besessen!"
Und zwei Lippen hängen trunken
An den Seinen. Blitzesschnelle
Zuckt sein Stahl und birgt im Busen
Bis an's Heft sich der Gazelle.
An dem nächsten Baum zerschmettert
Liegt die Leyer: "So erreiche
Meine Rache ihren Vater,
Ihren Stamm mit einem Streiche!"
Einmal muß er zu der holden,
Stummen Braut sich niederbücken,
Auf die kalten, weißen Lippen
Einen heißen Kuß zu drücken.
Dann erhebt er sich und wendet
Sich zur fernen Heimat wieder. -
Andalusiens Zaubergärten
Regnen zärtlich Blüthen nieder.


Translation(s): ENG

List of language codes

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

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, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , title 1: "Desert sounds", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Text added to the website: 2010-02-26.
Last modified: 2016-10-28 15:55:57
Line count: 92
Word count: 448

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Desert sounds

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

In the magical gardens of Andalusia
Blossoms shiver down nightly,
Upon the stormily fervent love songs
Of the dark son of the desert.
Ah! he seeks the desert flower,
Seeks the fleeing gazelle,
The oasis of his eyes,
The fresh well-spring of his heart.
And he stems the stream of his songs
To listen breathlessly;
The white flowers tenderly send forth
Their scent to intoxicate him.
Richly decorated, shining with gold,
The house stands in the moonlight.
Silence round about, only his lament
Still trembles through the night alone.
The desert has no palaces,
But in order to adorn the tent of his precious one
He ventures forth on many a bloody military campaign,
Only to seek new carpet fragments,
Only to see her two dimples,
The splendour of her teeth,
The while her words fall like pearls
To melt upon his fervent heart.
When a foreign sheik kidnapped her,
He heard her cry of fear ring out,
Upon his stallion, quick as the wind,
He assailed her captor.
The fight was bloody and fierce,
Until the sheik writhed in the sand,
Until his eagle eye in dying
Turned toward her in a last fervent glance. -
“I shall belong to you in all eternity!”
She said softly as she mounted the stallion,
And leaned her little head without reluctance
Upon his breast.
But when he returned
To remind her, to ask her,
The beloved had vanished,
Carried off by the simoom.
His pain was terrible to see:
With torn garments
He cursed the maiden, cursed fate,
Groaning in the hot sand,
He dragged himself upright, to resoundingly
Swear a vow into the vastness,
Never to stop searching for the maiden
In the whole world.
The magical garden of Andalusia
Finally received him,
And before the threshold of her house
He arrived, singing.
Night after night with songs
From her homeland he seeks to move her,
In order to carry her off into the desert
In his strong arms.
But the scents of Andalusia
Have embraced her too gently,
For her stern homeland she has
Already cherished no yearning for a long while!

Hark! gazelle-like steps approach,
And gazelle-like eyes gleam!
Does the dew wish to fall from the heavens
In order to moisten the earth?
And two white arms entwine themselves
About his neck; pleading
Sounds in his ear: “Dear one!
If you love me, you must go!
Every one of your sweet songs
Only brings me anxiety, pain and suffering,
To enjoy your love
Would bring me certain death.
The gazelle lies in captivity,
Has almost forgotten freedom,
Even in dreams she must almost no longer know
That she once possessed you!”
And two lips intoxicatingly
Meet his lips.  With lightning speed
His weapon is unsheathed and buries itself to the hilt
In the bosom of the gazelle.
Smashed against the nearest tree
Lies the lyre: “Thus may
My revenge reach her father,
Her tribe with one blow!”
Once more he must bow down
To the lovely, mute bride,
To press a fervent kiss
Upon her cold, white lips.
Then he rises up and turns
Again toward the distant homeland. -
The magical gardens of Andalusia
Gently rain down blossoms.


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Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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.

    Contact:

    licenses (AT) lieder (DOT) net
    (licenses at lieder dot net)



Based on

 

Text added to the website: 2015-02-06.
Last modified: 2015-02-06 14:02:44
Line count: 92
Word count: 532