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Zwei Reiter reiten vom Königsschloß

Language: German (Deutsch) after the German (Deutsch)

Alt Solo
 Zwei Reiter reiten vom Königsschloß,
 Sie reiten hinab zum Strande;
 In hohen Lüften pfeift der Wind,
 Die Wellen schäumen zu Lande.

 Sie sind hinauf am Ufersteg
 In Schweigen dumpf geritten;
 Blutrunen aus uralter Zeit
 Steh'n droben eingeschnitten.

König (mit finsterem Ausdruck)
 Nun mir, dem König, Page mein,
 Thu' kund mit freiem Muth:
 Wer gab das Röslein dir, Gesell;
 Das Röslein auf deinem Hute?

 Das Röslein gab die Mutter mir,
 Da sie mich ließ in Sorgen;
 Ich stell's in Wasser jede Nacht,
 So blüht es jeden Morgen.

 Wess' ist die Locke, die ich sah
 Um deine Brust geschlungen,
 Da vorhin dir vom scharfen Ritt
 Das Reitwamms aufgesprungen?

 Das ist meiner Schwester lichtbraun Haar,
 So fein und weich wie Seiden!
 Es duftet süß wie Rosenöl,
 Sie weinte d'rauf beim Scheiden.

König (heftiger)
 Nun sag' und red' die Wahrheit mir,
 Gesell, es gilt dein Leben:
 Wer hat den Ring am Finger dir,
 Den goldnen Ring gegeben?

 [Die mir den Ring am Finger gab]1,
 Gab mir ihr Herz desgleichen;
 Das ist die allerschönste Maid
 In allen deinen Reichen!

 Der Ring ist meines Kindes Ring!
 Sein Blinken muß ich kennen.

 Weh! Deine Stirn' furcht Zorn!
 Blutrunen seh' ich brennen!

 Ha! Wagtest du in frechem Muth
 Um ihre Lieb' zu werben,
 Schon' ich dein jung, frisch Leben nicht,
 Des Todes musst du sterben!

 Des Todes muss ich sterben!

 Des Todes! Wohlauf, mein Schwert,
 Kühl' 's Herzlein dem Gesellen!

 Weh! Weh! Weh!

 Und deinen Leib verschling' die Fluth,
 Und steht dein Sinnen so hoch,
 So magst um die Königin jetzt
 Der Wassernixen du minnen!

Alt Solo
 Den Strand entlang zum Königsschloß
 Heim reitet ein düst'rer Reiter;
 Hinaus ins Meer die Leiche schwimmt,
 Die Wellen rauschen weiter.

Translation(s): ENG

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About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 In the recording SCHUMANN: Symphonies and Choral Ballads, Vol. 2 (Chandos, CHAN9846), the booklet gives this line as "Den Ring den mir am Finger gab" which appears to be what is sung; however the score in the Petrucci Music Library uses the words shown above, which follow Geibel's original.

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website: 2011-03-03.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:15
Line count: 68
Word count: 293

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Two riders ride out from the king's...

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

Alto Solo
Two riders ride out from the king's palace,
They ride down to the shore;
The wind whistles up high,
The waves break foamingly on the shoreline.

Up the pathway along the shore,
They rode in oppressive silence;
Blood runes from ancient times.
Stand above carved into the rock.

King (with a dark mien)
Now page of mine, to me, the king,
Disclose in an open spirit:
Who, my good fellow, gave you the rose;
The rose upon your hat?

The rose was given to me by my mother,
When anxiously she let me go forth;
I put it in water every night,
Thus it blooms every morning.

Whose is the curl that I saw
Wound upon your breast,
When a moment ago the vigorous ride
Caused your riding jerkin to gape open?

That is the light brown hair of my sister,
As fine and soft as silk!
It is sweetly scented with oil of roses,
She wept upon it when we parted.

King (more vehemently)
Now speak, and tell me truly,
My fellow, your life is at stake:
Who gave you the ring upon your finger,
The golden ring?

She who gave me the ring upon my finger,
Also gave to me her heart;
(with fire)
She is the most beautiful maiden
In all of your kingdoms!

The ring is the ring of my child!
I know its gleam well.

Woe! Your forehead is furrowed with rage!
I see the blood runes burning!

Ha! If you dared in audacious desire
To court her love,
I take no pity upon your young, fresh life,
You must die!

I must die!

You are for death! Well then, my sword,
Cool the fellow's little heart for him!

Woe! Woe! Woe!

And may the flood devour your body,
And if your aspirations be so lofty,
You may now court
The queen of the water nymphs!

Alto solo
Along the shore toward the castle
Rides home a gloomy rider;
Out into the sea floats the corpse,
The waves continue to roar.

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About the headline (FAQ)


  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 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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Text added to the website: 2011-03-04.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:15
Line count: 68
Word count: 349