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Welle, darfst du nimmer weilen, Nie zu mir in Liebe glühn? Sprich, was zwingt dich fort zu eilen Aus des Waldes trautem Grün? Lass in Liebe ungemessen An die heisse Brust dich pressen! Fass' ich dich, lass' ich nimmer von hier Wehe, du fliehst und ich lodre nach dir. Hindin, braune, holde, schlanke, Lockt dich so die Waldesnacht? Warum meidest du die Schranke, Drin mein lieber Garten lacht? Lass mit holdem Wort dir schmeicheln, Lass dich kosen, lass dich streicheln! Wehe, sie flieht in geflügelter Zier, Ach, und sie lässt mich, den Einsamen, hier. Keine Wellen, keine Hinden Gleichen doch dem holden Bild, Das ich nie vermocht zu finden, Doch im Herzen steht es mild. Oft wohl mein' ich, aus den weiten Wäldern müsst es grüssend schreiten. Selige Schönheit, enthülle dich mir! Weh, du zerrinnst und ich lodre nach dir.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Johanna Kinkel (1810 - 1858), "Lied aus dem "Spessartraum"", op. 21 (Sechs Lieder für eine tiefe Stimme) no. 1, published 1851 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Anja Bunzel) , "Song from the Spessart Dream", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2009-05-02
Line count: 24
Word count: 140
Wave, why are you never able to rest, Why do you never reflect my love? Tell me, what it is that forces you to rush Out of the forest? Let me press you onto my chest In endless love! If I get hold of you, I will never let you go. Woe betide you escape and I am longing for you. Indian women, dark, graceful, slender, Does the dark forest attract you so much? Why do you avoid the gate Behind which my garden smiles at you? Let me cajole you with nice words, Let me love you, let me pet you! Woe betide she escapes in winged adornment, Ach, and she leaves me, the lonesome, behind. No waves, no Indian women Match the graceful image, Which I have never been able to find, But I carry it in my heart. Often, I think she would appear From the forest, greeting me. Blessed beauty, show yourself! Woe betide you disappear and I am longing for you.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 by Anja Bunzel, (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 (Johann) Gottfried Kinkel (1815 - 1882)
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 166