Das Alter
Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: ENG FRE ITA
Hoch mit den Wolken geht der Vögel Reise,
Die Erde [schläfert]1, kaum noch Astern prangen,
Verstummt die Lieder, die so fröhlich klangen,
Und trüber Winter deckt die weiten Kreise.
Die Wanduhr pickt, im Zimmer singet leise
Waldvöglein noch, so du im Herbst gefangen.
Ein Bilderbuch scheint alles, was vergangen,
Du blätterst drin, geschützt vor Sturm und Eise.
So mild ist oft das Alter mir erschienen:
Wart nur, bald taut es von den Dächern wieder
Und über Nacht hat sich die Luft gewendet.
Ans Fenster klopft ein [Bot']2 mit frohen Mienen,
Du trittst erstaunt heraus -- und kehrst nicht wieder,
Denn endlich kommt der Lenz, der nimmer endet.
View original text (without footnotes)
1 Zillig: "schläft"
2 Pfitzner: "Bote"
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Hans Erich Pfitzner (1869 - 1949), "Das Alter", op. 41 no. 3 (1931), published 1932 [bass-baritone and piano], from Drei Sonette für Bassbariton und Klavier, no. 3, Leipzig, Peters [
text verified 1 time
]
- by Winfried (Petrus Ignatius) Zillig (1905 - 1963), "Das Alter" [alto and orchestra], from Sieben Sonette nach Gedichten von Joseph von Eichendorff, no. 7. [
text verified 1 time
]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , title 1: "Vecchiaia", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , title 1: "Old age", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "Le vieillard", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Jakob Kellner
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 14
Word count: 109
Vecchiaia
Language: Italian (Italiano) after the German (Deutsch)
Migrano alti gli uccelli fra le nubi,
e la terra riposa, le stelle brillano appena,
tacciono i canti, che suonavano allegri,
e tutto, d'intorno, avvolge un triste inverno.
La pendola ticchetta, e nella stanza piano
Ancora canta un uccello, tolto al bosco in autunno.
E tutto il tuo passato trascorre nelle immagini
Di un libro che sfogli, al riparo dal vento e dal freddo.
Così dolce sovente la vecchiaia mi appare:
aspetta un poco, presto si scioglierà il ghiaccio dai tetti
e con la notte l'aria si farà nuova.
E alla finestra qualcuno busserà lieto,
e tu sorpreso uscirai per non più tornare,
perché la primavera sarà ormai arrivata, e non avrà fine.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2008 by Ferdinando Albeggiani, (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:
This text was added to the website: 2008-03-31
Line count: 14
Word count: 113
