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A light exists in Spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad On solitary hills That science cannot overtake, But human nature feels. It waits upon the lawn; It shows the furthest tree Upon the furthest slope we know; It almost speaks to me. Then, as horizons step, Or noons report away, Without the formula of sound, It passes, and we stay: A quality of loss Affecting our content, As trade had suddenly encroached Upon a sacrament.
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Confirmed with Poems by Emily Dickinson. Third Series, ed by Mabel Loomis Todd, Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1896.
Text Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title, appears in Poems: Third Series, in 3. Nature, no. 3, first published 1896 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Ronald A. Beckett , "Spring: A light exists in spring", 2006 [ voice and piano ], from The Seasons: Four Poems of Emily Dickinson, no. 2 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Richard Layton Kent (b. 1916), "A light exists in Spring", published 1971 [ SSA chorus or TTBB chorus a cappella ], from Spring Songs [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Esiste una luce in primavera", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 89
Im Lenz leuchtet ein Licht, das übers Jahr sich nicht auf diese Weise zeigt. Kaum dass der März anbricht, tritt eine Farbe an im Feld, auf freier Flur, die ein Labor nicht schaffen kann - der Mensch erspürt sie nur. Es wartet auf dem Gras, zeigt sich am fernsten Baum und auch vom fernsten Hügelhang spricht es dich fast noch an. Wenn ferner geht der Blick, wenn Mittage vorbei, zieht es, gibt keinen Laut von sich, davon, lässt uns zurück: Für uns ist’s ein Verlust, der unser Glück einschränkt als griffe plötzlich der Kommerz ein in ein Sakrament.
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Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2016 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 Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title, appears in Poems: Third Series, in 3. Nature, no. 3, first published 1896
This text was added to the website: 2016-03-01
Line count: 20
Word count: 97