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The LiederNet Archive

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Kein Tröpflein mehr im Becher!

Language: German (Deutsch)

Kein Tröpflein mehr im Becher!
Kein Geld im Säckel mehr!
Da wird mir armem Zecher
Das Herze gar so schwer.
Das Wandern macht mir Pein,
Weiß nicht, wo aus, noch ein;
Ins Kloster möcht' ich gehen,
Da liegt ein kühler Wein.

Ich zieh' auf dürrem Wege,
Mein Rock ist arg bestaubt,
Weiß nicht, wohin ich lege
In dieser Nacht mein Haupt.
Mein Herberg' ist die Welt,
Mein Dach das Himmelszelt,
Das Bett, darauf ich schlafe,
Das ist das breite Feld.

Ich geh' auf flinken Sohlen,
Doch schneller reit't das Glück;
Ich mag es nicht einholen,
Es läßt mich arg zurück.
Komm' ich an einen Ort,
So war es eben dort,
Da kommt der Wind geflogen,
Der pfeift mich aus sofort.

Ich wollt', ich läg' zur Stunde
Am Heidelberger Faß,
Den offnen Mund am Spunde,
Und träumt' ich weiß nicht was.
Und wollt' ein Dirnlein fein
Mir gar die Schenkin sein:
Mir wär's, als schwämmen Rosen
Wohl auf dem klaren Wein.

Ach wer den Weg doch wüßte
In das Schlaraffenland!
Mir dünket wohl, ich müßte
Dort finden Ehr' und Stand.
Mein Mut ist gar so schlecht,
Daß ich ihn tauschen möcht';
Und so's Dukaten schneite,
Das wär' mir eben recht.

Translation(s): ENG

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


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) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website: 2009-03-22 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:10

Line count: 40
Word count: 199

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No droplet left in the goblet!

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

No droplet left in the goblet!
No money left in the purse!
That makes the heart
Of this poor carouser so heavy.
Wandering causes me grief,
I don’t know which way to turn;
I’d like to join a monastery,
There lie the [bottles of] cool wine.
I journey upon an arid road,
My coat is appallingly dusty,
I know not where I shall
Lay my head this night.
The world is my lodging,
My roof -- the firmament,
The bed upon which I sleep
Is the broad field.
I walk with fleet feet,
But good fortune rides more quickly;
I cannot catch up with it,
It leaves me far behind.
If I arrive anywhere,
[Good fortune] has only just been there,
Then the wind comes flying along
And immediately whistles derisively at me.
I wish that at this very hour
I were lying by the cask at Heidelberg,
My open mouth at the spigot,
And dreaming of I know not what.
And if a fine maiden wanted
To be a barmaid to me:
I would feel as if roses were floating
Upon the clear wine.
Ah who but knew the way
To that Land of Cockayne!
It seems to me that I must
Find honour and station there.
My courage is so poorly
That I would like to trade it in;
And if it were to rain ducats,
I would be quite content.

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About the headline (FAQ)

Translated titles:
"Kein Tröpflein mehr im Becher" = "No droplet left in the goblet"
"Lied eines fahrenden Schülers" = "Song of a roaming student"
"Lieder eines fahrenden Schülers I" = "Songs of a roaming student I"


  • 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.


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

Based on


Text added to the website: 2015-03-04 00:00:00.

Last modified: 2015-03-04 17:39:06

Line count: 40
Word count: 232