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Ich dacht an sie den ganzen Tag

Language: German (Deutsch)

Ich dacht an sie den ganzen Tag,
Und dacht an sie die halbe Nacht.
Und als ich fest im Schlafe lag,
Hat mich ein Traum zu ihr gebracht.

Sie blüht wie eine junge Ros,
Und sitzt so ruhig, still beglückt.
Ein Rahmen ruht auf ihrem Schoß,
Worauf sie weiße Lämmchen stickt.

Sie schaut so sanft, begreift es nicht,
Warum ich traurig vor ihr steh.
«Was ist so blaß dein Angesicht,
Heinrich, sag mirs, wo tuts dir weh?»

Sie schaut so sanft, und staunt, daß ich
Still weinend ihr ins Auge seh.
«Was weinest du so bitterlich,
Heinrich, sag mirs, wer tut dir weh?»

Sie schaut mich an mit milder Ruh,
Ich aber fast vor Schmerz vergeh.
«Wer weh mir tat, mein Lieb, bist du,
Und in der Brust da sitzt das Weh.»

Da steht sie auf, und legt die Hand
Mir auf die Brust ganz feierlich;
Und plötzlich all mein Weh verschwand,
Und heitern Sinns erwachte ich.

Translation(s): ENG

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Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]


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):

Text added to the website: 2008-11-12.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:00
Line count: 24
Word count: 157

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Ich dacht an sie den ganzen Tag

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

I thought on her throughout the day,
And thought on her through half the night,
And when at last in sleep I lay
A dream restored her to my sight.

Fresh as the youngest rose she glowed,
In silent bliss as there she sat,
With on her knees a frame which showed
White lambs that she was working at.

She sat so calm, and could not guess
Why I stood there so full of woe:
"What means this pallor, this distress --
My Heinrich, say, what hurts thee so?"

She looked in soft amaze that I
Should look upon her weeping so:
"Why weepest thou so bitterly, --
My Heinrich, say, who makes thy woe?"

She gazed thus softly while I strove,
Half dead with grief she could not know:
"Who makes my pain is thou, my love,
And in my breast there lies my woe."

She rose, and laid her hand upon
My breast as 'twere some holy rite;
And suddenly my grief was gone,
And I awoke for sheer delight.

Submitted by Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]


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)

    [ None yet in the database ]

Text added to the website: 2013-01-18.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:07
Line count: 24
Word count: 170