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Wo bist Du, Jugendliches! das immer mich Zur Stunde weckt des Morgens, wo bist Du, Licht? Das Herz ist wach, doch hält und hemmt in Heiligem Zauber die Nacht mich immer. Sonst lauscht ich um die Dämmerung gern, sonst harrt Ich gerne Dein am Hügel, und nie umsonst! Nie täuschten mich, Du Holdes! Deine Boten, die Lüfte, denn immer kamst Du, Kamst allbeseligend den gewohnten Pfad Herein in Deiner Schöne, wo bist Du, Licht? Das Herz ist wieder wach, doch bannt und Hemmt die unendliche Nacht mich immer. Mir grünten sonst die Lauben, es leuchteten Die Blumen, wie die eigenen Augen, mir, Nicht ferne war das Angesicht der Lieben, und leuchtete mir, und droben Und um die Wälder sah ich die Fittiche Des Himmels fliegen, da ich ein Jüngling war; Nun sitz ich still allein, von einer Stunde zur anderen, und Gestalten Aus Liebe und Leid der helleren Tage schafft, Zur eigenen Freude nun mein Gedanke sich, Und ferne lausch ich hin, ob nicht ein Freundlicher Retter vielleicht mir komme. Dann hör ich oft den Wagen des Donners Am Mittag, wenn der eherne nahe kommt Und ihm das Haus bebt, und der Boden Unter ihm dröhnt, und der Berg es nachhallt. Den Retter hör ich dann in der Nacht, ich hör Ihn tötend, den Befreier, belebend ihn, Den Donnerer, vom Untergang zum Orient eilen und ihm nach tönt ihr, Ihr meiner Seele Saiten! es lebt mit ihm Mein Geist, und wie die Quelle dem Strome folgt, Wohin er trachtet, so Geleit ich Gerne den Sicheren auf der Irrbahn. Wohin? wohin? ich höre Dich da und dort, Du Herrlicher! und rings um die Erde tönt! Wo endest Du? und was, was ist es Über den Wolken? und o wie wird mir! Tag! Tag! Du über stürzenden Wolken! sei Willkommen mir! es blühet mein Auge Dir. O Jugendlicht! o Glück! das alte Wieder! doch geistiger rinnst Du nieder, Du goldener Quell aus heiligem Kelch! und Du, Du grüner Boden! friedliche Wieg'! und Du, Haus meiner Väter! und ihr Lieben, Die mir begegneten einst, o nahet, O kommt, daß euer, euer die Freude sei, Ihr alle! daß euch segne der Sehnende! O nehmt, daß ich es ertrage, mir das Leben, das Göttliche mir vom Herzen!
Confirmed with Friedrich Hölderlin, Gedichte, Stuttgart u. a., 1826, pages 26-28. Note: the poem is preceded by the following epigraph:
Ελυσεν αινον αχος απ᾽ ομματων Αρης Sophokles
Authorship:
- by Friedrich Hölderlin (1770 - 1843), "Der blinde Sänger" [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):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The blind singer", 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: 2023-07-26
Line count: 52
Word count: 372
Where are you, that which is young! that ever Wakens me at the morning hour, where are you, light? My heart is awake, yet the night ever holds And ensnares me in sacred enchantment. Formerly around twilight, I listened happily, formerly I gladly awaited you at the hillock, and never for naught! Never, you lovely thing, did your messengers, The breezes, deceive me, for you always came, Came along the accustomed pathway, blessing everything, Entered in your beauty, where are you, light? My heart is awake once more, but The infinite night ever charms and ensnares me. Formerly the arbours burgeoned for me, the flowers Shone for me like my own eyes; Not far away was the visage of her Who was mine and who shone for me, and above And about the woods I saw the pinions Of Heaven wandering, when I was a youth; Now I sit quietly alone, from one Hour to the other, and shapes Of the love and sorrow of brighter days My thoughts now create for their own pleasure, And I listen far into the distance to discover whether A kindly saviour might perhaps be coming to me. Then I often hear the voice of the thunderer At noontide, when the iron one approaches, When his house trembles and the ground Beneath him roars and the mountain echoes the sound. I then hear the saviour in the night, I hear Him slaying, the emancipator, [hear] him quickening, The thunderer hastening from the west To the east and following him, your resounding, Following him, you my [harp-]strings! With him lives My song, and as the water-spring follows the river Whither it lists, thus must I be off and Follow the sure one upon the errant path. Whither? whither? I hear thee hither and yon, Thou glorious one! and all around the world resounds! Where dost thou end? and what, what is that Above the clouds? and oh, what do I feel! Day! Day! You above the plunging clouds! Be welcome to me! my eyes blossom for you. Oh light of youth! oh happiness! the olden things Again! but more spiritually you rain down, You golden well-spring from the holy chalice! And you, You green terrain! peaceful cradle! And you, House of my fathers! And you loved ones, Who once encountered me, oh approach, Oh, come, that the joy may be yours, yours, All of you, that the longing one may bless you! Oh, that I may bear it, take the life, [Take] the divine from my heart!
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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Friedrich Hölderlin (1770 - 1843), "Der blinde Sänger"
This text was added to the website: 2023-09-18
Line count: 52
Word count: 422