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Neunerlei Blumen winde zum Kranz, Knüpfe den Anfang ans Ende, Sinn und Bedeutung im blühenden Glanz Wirket zur Sonnenwende. Aber zum kleinen, zierlichen Strauß Brauchst du nicht lange zu wählen, Nimm, was du findest, und scheide nicht aus, Laß nur den Liebsten sie zählen. Rispen und Ähren, du zitterig Gras, Ihr sollt sie all' überragen, Ehrenpreis, vom Thaue noch naß, Wirst dich mit Nelke vertragen. Primel und Heide und Weidenröslein, Rührmichnichtan und Gamander, Erdbeer', du rothe, mitten hinein, Seht doch! ihr paßt zu einander. Spinnlein, bleib' sitzen, du bringest ja Glück! Aber du, Raupe, entweiche! Hinter des Labkrauts Sterne zurück, Röthliche Blätter der Eiche! Unten ums Wintergrün, dunkel und kraus, Will ich das Bändchen nun legen, Blumen vom Walde, wildwüchsiger Strauß, Duftet dem Liebsten entgegen!
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View text with all available footnotesConfirmed with Julius Wolff, Der wilde Jäger. Eine Waidmannsmär, Neunte unveränderte Auflage, Berlin: G. Grote'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1880, pages 64-65.
Text Authorship:
- by Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910), no title, appears in Der wilde Jäger: Eine Waidmannsmär, first published 1877 [author's text checked 2 times against a primary source]
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Research team for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani , Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor], Johann Winkler
This text was added to the website: 2008-07-04
Line count: 24
Word count: 127
Twine nine kinds of flowers into a wreath, Attach the beginning to the end, Work spirit and meaning in a blossoming radiance For the summer solstice. But for a little, delicate bouquet You need not spend a long time choosing, Take what you find and do not exclude any flowers, Only let your beloved count them. Panicles and wheat-ears, you trembling grasses, You are to top them all, Speedwell, still wet with dew, You shall harmonize with the carnation. Primula and heather and fireweed, Touch-me-not balsam and germander, You red strawberry right in the middle, Just see! you go together. Little spider, stay here, for you bring good luck! But you, caterpillar, be gone! Get behind the stars of the lady's bedstraw, Ruddy leaves of the oak! Below, around the ripple ivy, dark and curly, I shall now tie the ribbon, Flowers of the forest, a wild-grown bouquet Sends its scents toward the beloved!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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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Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910), no title, appears in Der wilde Jäger: Eine Waidmannsmär, first published 1877
Go to the general view
This text was added to the website: 2014-11-11
Line count: 24
Word count: 157