Wanderlied
Language: German (Deutsch)
Lustig gewandert,
Lustig, Gesellen!
Es wandern die Wolken,
Es wandern die Wellen.
Wir ziehn wie der Sturmwind,
Durch Wald und durch Feld.
Und wo wir erscheinen,
Gehört uns die Welt.
Die Fässer, die alten,
Die können erzählen,
Wie gut wir geweckt
Ihre schlummernden Seelen.
Und, triffst du ein Mädchen
Wo sinnend am Bach,
Mit Grüßen von uns
Ruf’ die Träumerin wach!
Wem einmal den Wandergruß
Zurief die Liebe,
Der folgt ihrem Zuge,
Wohin er ihn triebe.
Wer einmal verspürt hat
Den seligen Duft,
Den hält keine Hütte,
Den hemmt keine Kluft.
Ewig gewonnen,
Ewig verloren!
Und jeden Morgen
Sind neu wir geboren:
Ob Frost uns packt,
Ob der Mittag brennt, --
Dem Wandrer befreundet
Ist jed’ Element.
Wir finden doch Abends
Die gastliche Hütte,
Wir ziehen das Glöckchen
Mit freundlicher Bitte.
So süßen Ton
Hört ein Wandrer allein, --
Und sollt’ es auch endlich
Das Sterbglöckchen sein!
Translation(s): ENG
List of language codes
G. Jenner sets stanzas 1-2, 4-5, 3
Confirmed with C. Reinhold, Gedichte, Stuttgart: Carl Mäcken, 1853, pages 3-5
Submitted by Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
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: "Wandering song", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Text added to the website: 2016-02-09.
Last modified: 2016-02-09 21:28:29
Line count: 40
Word count: 146
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Wandering song
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
Wander merrily,
Merrily, comrades!
The clouds wander,
The waves wander.
Like the storm-wind we pass
Through forest and through field.
And wherever we appear,
The world is ours.
The casks, the old ones,
They can tell tales
Of how well we woke
Their slumbering souls.
And should you meet a maiden
Musing somewhere beside a brook,
With greetings from us
Waken the dreamer!
He whom once love greeted
With the call to wander,
He follows in its lure
Wherever it may take him.
He who once has discerned
The blessed scent,
No hut can hold him,
No chasm can delay him.
Eternally attained,
Eternally lost!
And every morning
We are born anew:
If frost seizes us,
If the noonday burns,
Every one of the elements
Is the friend of the wanderer.
In the evening we nevertheless
Find the hospitable hut,
We pull the bell
With a friendly request.
Such a sweet sound
Is heard by the wanderer alone,--
And even if it should finally
Be the tolling of the funeral bell!
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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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Based on
Text added to the website: 2016-02-09.
Last modified: 2016-02-09 21:29:27
Line count: 40
Word count: 172
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