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No more noisy, loud words from me - such is my master's will. Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song. Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there. But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work. Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time; and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum. Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!
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Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 89, first published 1912 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 89 [text unavailable]
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 ]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-11-03
Line count: 16
Word count: 135
Kein dröhnend’ Wort mehr komm’ aus meinem Munde - dies ist des Meisters Wille. Fortan sprech ich im Flüsterton. Und was mein Herz zu sagen hat, erklinget dann im Summen eines Lieds. Man hastet zu des Königs Markt. Schaut, alle Händler sind versammelt dort. Ich aber werd’ vorzeitig gehn, zur Mittagsstund, im dichtesten Gewühl. Die Blumen lass’ alsdann erblühn in meinem Garten, wenngleich es ihre Zeit nicht ist; und lass die Bienen dann zur Mittagszeit ihr träg’ Gesumm anstimmen. So manche Stund hab ich verbracht im Streit um Gut und Böse, doch nun erfreut es meinen Freund im Spiel aus leeren Tagen, mein Herz an sich zu ziehn; und ich kann nicht verstehen, warum er denn so plötzlich ruft, zu welchem sinnentleerten Ziel.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.
Bertram Kottmann. Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
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Based on:
- a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 89, first published 1912
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 89 [text unavailable]
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-11
Line count: 16
Word count: 122