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Herr Gänsefuß, Frau Gänsekraut (Sprecher)

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

Des Sommerwindes wilde Jagd
 Herr Gänsefuß, Frau Gänsekraut, nun duckt euch nur geschwind,
 denn des sommerlichen Windes wilde Jagd beginnt.
 Die Mücken fliegen ängstlich
 aus dem schilfdurchwachs'nen Hain,
 In den See grub der Wind seine Silberspuren ein.
 Viel schlimmer kommt es, als ihr euch nur je gedacht;
 Hu! wie's schaurig in den Buchblättern lacht!
 Das ist Sankt Johanniswurm mit der Feuerzunge rot,
 und der schwere Wiesennebel, ein Schatten bleich und tot!
 Welch Wogen und Schwingen!
 Welch Ringen und Singen!
 In die Ähren schlägt der Wind in leidigem Sinne.
 Daß das Kornfeld tönend bebt.
 Mit den langen Beinen fiedelt die Spinne,
 und es reißt, was sie mühsam gewebt.
 Tönend rieselt der Tau zu Tal,
 Sterne schießen und schwinden zumal;
 flüchtend durchraschelt der Falter die Hecken,
 springen die Frösche nach feuchten Verstecken.
 Still! Was mag der Wind nur wollen?
 Wenn das welke Laub er wendet,
 sucht er, was zu früh geendet;
 Frühlings, blauweiße Blütensäume,
 der Erde flüchtige Sommerträume -
 längst sind sie Staub!
 Aber hinauf, über die Bäume
 schwingt er sich nun in lichtere Räume,
 denn dort oben, wie Traum so fein
 meint er, müßten die Blüten sein!
 Und mit seltsam Tönen
 in ihres Laubes Kronen
 grüßt er wieder die schlanken Schönen.
 Sieh! nun ist auch das vorbei.
 Auf luftigem Steige wirbelt er frei
 zum blanken Spiegel des Sees,
 und dort in der Wellen unendlichem Tanz,
 in bleicher Sterne Widerglanz
 wiegt er sich friedlich ein.
 Wie stille wards zur Stell!
 Ach, war das licht und hell!
 O schwing dich aus dem Blumenkelch, Marienkäferlein,
 und bitte deine schöne Frau um Leben und Sonnenschein.
 Schon tanzen die Wogen am Klippenecke,
 schon schleicht im Grase die bunte Schnecke,
 nun regt sich Waldes Vogelschar,
 Tau schüttelt die Blume vom lockigen Haar
 und späht nach der Sonne aus.
 Erwacht, erwacht, ihr Blumen zur Wonne.
Gemischter Chor:
 Seht die Sonne farbenfroh am Himmelssaum
 östlich grüßt ihr Morgentraum.
 Lächelnd kommt sie aufgestiegen
 Aus der Fluten der Nacht,
 läßt von lichter Stirne fliegen
 Strahlenlockenpracht.


Translation(s): CAT ENG FRE ITA

List of language codes

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Authorship


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)

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

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Linda Godry) , copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Text added to the website: 2013-08-14.
Last modified: 2017-09-27 17:08:22
Line count: 56
Word count: 324

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Sir Goosefoot, Lady Pimpernel, now...

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

The summerwind's wild chase
 Sir Goosefoot, Lady Pimpernel, now quickly duck,
 because the summer wind's wild chase is coming. 
 Hesitant the midges fly,
 from the  reed-lined grove,
 the wind engraved the water's silvery disc. 
 It's worse to come, than you ever imagined;
 Ho! Eerie sounds waft over from the beeches!
 It's St. Johns dragon with his red fiery tongue,
 and the black meadow dew, a shadow bleak and dead!
 What a surge and swaying!
 What a hustle and ringing!
 Into the ears of the corn slashes the foul-mooded wind,
 so the cornfield whispers and trembles.
 With its long legs the spin fiddles,
 and torn away is, what she busily wove.
 Tinkling the dew comes down from the hills,
 Stars shoot and vanish at the blink of an eye;
 Fleetingly the moth rustles through the hedge-rows,
 the frogs jump to watery shelter.
 Quiet! What may be the wind's wish?
 If the withered leaf it turns,
 it searches for those gone too early:
 spring's blue-white blossomy seams,
 the earth's fleeting summer-dreams -
 they are long gone to dust!
 But up to the tree-tops
 It goes to loftier spaces,
 Because up there, as intricate as dreams
 it thinks the blossoms to be!
 And with wondrous sounds
 in their leafy crowns
 it again greets the slender beauties.
 Look! Now that's over too.
 Over lofty steeps it twirls on free
 to the lake's blinking mirror,
 and there in the wave's neverending dance,
 in the star's pale reflection
 it peacefully rocks to sleep.
 How quickly the quiet came!
 Ah, how light and bright it was!
 Oh, rise from the blossom tiny lady-bird,
 And ask your beautiful wife to make a lively dance in the sunshine.
 Already the waves dance at the cliff's edge,
 already the snail glides through the grass,
 now the birds of the wood rise,
 dew shakes off the blossom from its wavy hair
 and looks out for the sun.
 Rise, rise, you flowers to bliss!
Mixed choir:
 Look! the colourful sun at heaven's seams
 greets her morning-dream from the east.
 Smiling she rises
 from the night's waves,
 letting beam from her bright brow
 glorious curls.


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Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2004 by Linda Godry, (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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Based on
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Text added to the website: 2004-11-22.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:18
Line count: 56
Word count: 352