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Der verspätete Wanderer

Language: German (Deutsch)

Wo aber werd' ich sein im künft'gen Lenze?
So frug ich sonst wohl, wenn beim Hüteschwingen
Ins Tal wir ließen unser Lied erklingen,
Denn jeder Wipfel bot mir frische Kränze.

Ich wußte nur, daß rings der Frühling glänze,
Daß nach dem Meer die Ströme [leuchtend]1 gingen,
Von fernem Wunderland die Vögel singen,
Da hatt' das Morgenrot noch keine Grenze.

Jetzt aber wirds schon Abend, alle Lieben
Sind wandermüde längst zurückgeblieben,
Die Nachtluft rauscht durch meine welken Kränze,

Und heimwärts rufen mich die Abendglocken,
Und in der Einsamkeit frag ich erschrocken:
Wo werde ich wohl sein im künft'gen Lenze?

Translation(s): ENG FRE

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View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Joseph Freiherrn von Eichendorff's sämtliche poetische Werke, dritte Auflage, Erster Band, Gedichte, C. F. Amelang's Verlag, Leipzig, 1883, page 102.

1 Zillig: "funkelnd"

Submitted by Jakob Kellner


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: "The wanderer late in the evening", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "Le voyageur attardé", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Last modified: 2015-03-08 00:05:31
Line count: 14
Word count: 98

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Le voyageur attardé

Language: French (Français) after the German (Deutsch)

Mais où serai-je au printemps prochain ?
Je m'interrogeais ainsi, quand agitant mon chapeau,
Nous faisions retentir notre chant dans la vallée,
Quand chaque cime m'offrait sa fraîche couronne.

Je savais juste qu'autour de moi brillait le printemps,
Que les fleuves [lumineux]1 allaient jusqu'à la mer,
Les oiseaux venus de lointains pays merveilleux chantaient,
L'embrasement du matin n'avait alors pas de frontière.

Mais maintenant le soir est déjà là, tous les amours,
Fatigués du voyage, sont depuis longtemps restés en arrière
Le vent de la nuit gronde dans mes couronnes fanées,

Et les cloches du soir m'appellent à la maison,
Et dans la solitude, je m'interroge anxieusement :
Où serai-je au printemps prochain ?

IMPORTANT NOTE: The material directly above is protected by copyright and appears here by special permission. If you wish to copy it and distribute it, you must obtain permission or you will be breaking the law. Once you have permission, you must give credit to the author and display the copyright symbol ©. Copyright infringement is a criminal offense under international law.

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Zillig: "scintillants"


  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to French (Français) copyright © 2015 by Pierre Mathé, (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


Text added to the website: 2015-03-07.
Last modified: 2015-03-08 00:04:44
Line count: 14
Word count: 114