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Der Mond wie Blut, Die Wolken fahl,-- Die Stund' ist gut! Wir ziehn in's Thal Zum Opferherde nieder. Das Opfer ächzt, Der Blutgott lechzt. Hebt an die strengen Lieder! Was dunkel haus't Im Wolkenthron, Oft in uns graus't Mit ernstem Droh'n, Wir wissen's nicht zu nennen. Dem leben wir, Dem fällt das Thier, Und Opfergluthen brennen. Das Blut versöhnt, Wenn's fleußt dahin! So ist's ertönt Durch unsern Sinn Aus ernsten Wunderträumen. Fleuß, Opferblut! Erbeb', o Muth, Und laß dein stolzes Schäumen. Geheimnißreich Am trüben Ort, Und schreckenbleich Mit harten Wort Begehn wir unsre Feste. Der Mond allein Darf Zeuge seyn - Und Eul' und Nachtmohr Gäste. Von Osten zieht Herauf das Licht! Schließt Euer Lied, Verweilet nicht; Uns lehrten's alte Sagen! Lang' wird vollbracht Das Werk in Macht, Einst wird, einst wird es tagen.
Confirmed with Gedichte von Fridr. Baron de la Motte-Fouqué, Zweyter Theil, Neueste Auflage, Wien: Bey B. Ph. Bauer, 1818, pages 27-28
Authorship
- by Friedrich Heinrich Karl, Freiherr de La Motte-Fouqué (1777 - 1843), "Das Götzenopfer" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Carl Borromäus von Militz (1781 - 1845), "Das Götzenopfer", S. 10. [ sung text not yet checked against a primary source]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The idolothyte", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
The moon like blood, The clouds so drab, -- The hour is right! We descend into the valley Down to the sacrificial oven. The sacrifice groans, The blood-god is craving [his due]. Begin the solemn songs! That which lives darkly In the throne of the clouds, Often shudders within us With solemn threatening, We know not what to call it. For it we live, For it the beast is slain, And [for it] the glowing sacrificial coals burn. The blood propitiates As it flows! Thus it rings Through our spirit From solemn miraculous dreams. Flow, sacrificial blood! Shudder, oh spirit, And leave off your proud seething. Secret-laden At a dreary location And pale with fright, With hard words We celebrate our festivals. The moon alone May bear witness -- And owl and night-moor be guests. From the East Rises the light! Conclude your song, Do not tarry; Old sagas taught us! For a long time is accomplished The work in power; Once, once it shall become day.
Authorship
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 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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- a text in German (Deutsch) by Friedrich Heinrich Karl, Freiherr de La Motte-Fouqué (1777 - 1843), "Das Götzenopfer"