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Ihr tratet zu dem herde Wo alle glut verstarb · Licht war nur an der erde Vom monde leichenfarb. Ihr tauchet in die aschen Die bleichen finger ein Mit suchen tasten haschen -- Wird es noch einmal schein! Seht was mit [trostgebärde]1 Der mond euch rät: Tretet weg vom herde · Es ist worden spät.
About the headline (FAQ)
View text without footnotesConfirmed with Stefan George, Werke. Ausgabe in Zwei Bänden, Erster Band, 4. Auflage, Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta, 1984, page 165
1 Webern: "trostgeberde"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):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 55
You approached the hearth Where all the glow was dying · The only light on the ground Came from the corpse-coloured moon. Into the ashes you plunged Your pale fingers With seeking scrabbling snatching -- Shall it come alight once more! See what, with a comforting mien, The moon advises you to do: Step away from the hearth · It has grown late.
Text Authorship:
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2017-08-29
Line count: 12
Word count: 62
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