from Volkslieder (Folksongs)
Translation Singable translation by Natalie Macfarren (1826 - 1916)

Ich habe mein Feinsliebchen
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Ich habe mein Feinsliebchen
so lange nicht geseh'n,
ich sah sie gestern Abend
wohl vor der Türe steh'n.
Sie sagt, ich sollt' sie küssen,
als ich vorbei wollt' geh'n;
die Mutter sollt's nicht wissen,
die Mutter hat's geseh'n.

Ach Tochter, du willst freien,
wie wird es dir ergeh'n;
es wird dich bald gereuen,
wenn du wirst and're seh'n.
Wenn alle junge Mädchen
wohl auch zum Tanze geh'n,
mit ihren grünen Kränzchen
im Reihentanze steh'n.

Dann mußt du, junges Weibchen,
wohl bei der Wiege steh'n,
mit deinem weißen Leibchen,
der Kopf tut dir so weh.
"Das Feuer kann man löschen,
das Feuer brennt so sehr;
die Liebe nicht vergessen
je nun und nimmermehr."

About the headline (FAQ)

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):

  • ENG English [singable] (Natalie Macfarren) , "Since I had seen my truelove"


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 112

Since I had seen my truelove
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Since I had seen my truelove,
full many a day had pass'd,
when yester eve at gloaming
I saw her face at last.
She stood within the doorway,
she bade me enter in,
the mother would not know it:
the mother all had seen.

My daughter, art thou courting,
that thou, alas, wilt rue,
when thou in bonds art sighing
that none can then undo.
When all the village maidens
shall seek the dance so gay,
with rosy smile and light of heart
each with a flow'ry spray.

Then thou, a wistful mother,
must by the cradle bide,
and pale with weary watching
thy aching head shall hide.
Nay mother, fire that burneth,
is quench'd and may not soar,
but love, it never turneth,
nor now nor nevermore.

From a Henschel score.

Text Authorship:

Based on:

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 ]


Researcher for this page: Harry Joelson

This text was added to the website: 2011-05-17
Line count: 24
Word count: 128