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Und ich liebe sie doch! -- -- Dumpf und trübe Nannte ich oft Die Glocken der Heimat, Doch heute klingen sie über das Meer So wehmuthselig, So wunderbarlich, Daß selbst mein lachendes Herz Ihr Echo wird. Wie ein Bild der Zauberin, Der Dichterfreundin Morgana, Erblick' ich ferne am Horizonte, Wehmüthig winkend Die Gärten und Wiesen, Das schwarzbeschieferte Haus Mit den grünen Fenstern, Und am Fenster zum Garten Seh' ich die Mutter. Auf ihren Knieen, Ruhet ein Buch -- Sie liest in dem Buche. Ich seh' es genau, -- Es ist das Buch, Das einst dem Sohne Mit Thränen sie schenkte, Und das der Sohn, Als er fortging -- Vergaß. Sie liest die Worte, Die eigenhändig Aus warmen Herzen "zu stetem Gedenken" Sie eingeschrieben -- Ich glaub', eine Thräne Fällt heiß auf die Bibel. -- Wehmüthig über das Meer Klingen die Glocken der Heimat.
About the headline (FAQ)
Confirmed with Carl Siebel's Dichtungen. Gesammelt von seinen Freunden, herausgegeben von Emil Rittershaus, Berlin: G. Grote'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1877, pages 123-124.
Text Authorship:
- by Carl Siebel (1836 - 1868), "Heimat", appears in Arabesken [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 Max Julius Loewengard (1860 - 1915), "Heimath", published 1891 [ voice and piano ], from Acht Lieder für 1 Singstimme mit Pianofortebegleitung, no. 8, Berlin, Raabe & Plothow [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2023-09-18
Line count: 36
Word count: 136
And nevertheless I love them! -- -- Dull and dreary I often called The bells of home, But today they toll across the sea So blissfully melancholy, So wondrously, That even my laughing heart Becomes their echo. Like an image of the enchantress, Morgana, the friend of poets, I see far away on the horizon, Beckoning in melancholy, The gardens and meadows, The house with the black slates And the green windows, And at the window facing the garden I see my mother. Upon her knees Rests a book -- She is reading the book. I see it clearly, -- It is the book That she once gave To her son with tears, And that her son, When he departed -- Forgot. She is reading the words That in her own hand From a fervent heart "for constant remembrance" She inscribed there -- I believe a tear Falls burningly upon the Bible. -- Nostalgically across the sea Toll the bells of home.
About the headline (FAQ)
Translations of title(s):
"Heimat" = "Home"
"Heimath" = "Home"
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2023 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 Carl Siebel (1836 - 1868), "Heimat", appears in Arabesken
This text was added to the website: 2023-09-20
Line count: 36
Word count: 155