Vor dem Winter
Language: German (Deutsch)
Available translation(s): ENG
Geliebte Spuren such' ich
Im falben Laub --
Ach, Alles Staub,
Verwaist und leer,
Die kahlen Zweige thränenschwer,
Und drüber der Himmel so grau, so grau . . .
"Was rufst du die Todten, weinende Frau?"
Nur ein Traum verglühter Tage
Schimmert durch die blasse Luft,
Eine einst geliebte Stimme
Hebt sich flüsternd aus der Gruft,
Ein Erinnern sel'ger Stunden
Schaut mich an mit stillem Blick,
Und in sonnenlosen Gründen
Weint ein früh gestorb'nes Glück.
Der Frost wird kommen,
Der Nordsturm weh'n,
Und auch das Letzte
Zu Grabe geh'n.
O über die bange, bange Zeit,
Wenn dann die Seele der Einsamkeit,
Erinn'rung und Sehnsucht, die Flügel hebt
Und müden Fluges von dannen schwebt.
Confirmed with Anna Ritter, Gedichte, Neunte Auflage, Stuttgart und Berlin: J.G. Cotta'sche Buchhandlung Nachfolger, 1900, pages 59-60.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Before winter", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2012-05-28
Line count: 23
Word count: 112
Before winter
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch)
I seek beloved traces
In the dun-coloured leaves --
Ah, everything dust,
Deserted and empty,
The empty branches laden with tears,
And above, the sky so grey, so grey . . .
"Why do you call the dead, weeping woman?"
Only a dream of dead days
Shimmers through the pale air,
A once-loved voice
Rises whisperingly out of the sepulchre
A remembrance of blissful hours
Looks at me with a still gaze,
And in sunless vales
Weeps a happiness that died too soon.
The frost will come,
The storm from the north will blow,
And the last things, too,
Shall pass into the grave.
Oh, over the anxious, anxious time,
When the soul of solitude,
Memory, and yearning lifts its wings
And in weary flight wafts away from here.
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2023 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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This text was added to the website: 2023-10-12
Line count: 23
Word count: 128