LiederNet logo

CONTENTS

×
  • Home | Introduction
  • Composers (20,226)
  • Text Authors (19,713)
  • Go to a Random Text
  • What’s New
  • A Small Tour
  • FAQ & Links
  • Donors
  • DONATE

UTILITIES

  • Search Everything
  • Search by Surname
  • Search by Title or First Line
  • Search by Year
  • Search by Collection

CREDITS

  • Emily Ezust
  • Contributors (1,115)
  • Contact Information
  • Bibliography

  • Copyright Statement
  • Privacy Policy

Follow us on Facebook

English translations of Vier Lieder für 1 Stimme mit Pianoforte, opus 11

by Wilhelm Reinhard Berger (1861 - 1911)

1. Es rauscht das rothe Laub  [sung text not yet checked]
by Wilhelm Reinhard Berger (1861 - 1911), "Es rauscht das rothe Laub", op. 11 (Vier Lieder für 1 Stimme mit Pianoforte) no. 1, published 1883 [ voice and piano ], Bremen, Praeger & Meier
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Es rauscht das rote Laub zu meinen Füßen,
Doch [wenn es wieder grünt, wo weil' ich dann]1?
Wo werden mich die ersten Schwalben grüßen?
Ach ferne, [fern]2 der Süßen,
Und nimmer [bin ich mehr ein froher Mann]3.

Sonst sang ich [stets]4 durch Flur und Bergeshalde
Im braunen Herbst, in flock'ger [Winterszeit]5:
O [schöner Frühling]6, komm zu deinem Walde,
[Komme]7 balde, balde, balde!
Nun sing' ich: Schöner Frühling, bleibe weit!

Umsonst! Wie jetzt sich Heid' und Forst entkleiden,
So blühn sie neu; was kümmert sie mein [Gram]8?
Das Veilchen kommt, ich muß es eben leiden,
Muß wandern und muß scheiden,
Doch [o]9! [wie leb' ich, wenn ich Abschied nahm!]10

Text Authorship:

  • by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884), no title, appears in Jugendgedichte, in 1. Erstes Buch, in Lieder als Intermezzo, no. 40

See other settings of this text.

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Emanuel Geibel, Gesammelte Werke in acht Bänden, Erster Band. Jugendgedichte-Zeitstimmen-Sonette, Dritte Auflage, Stuttgart: Verlag der J.G. Cotta'schn Buchhandlung Nachfolger, 1893, page 55.

1 Oechsner: "sprich, wo weil' ich, wenn es wieder blüht"
2 Hensel: "ferne"
3 Oechsner: "steht in Freuden mein Gemüt"
4 Oechsner: "wohl"
5 Oechsner: "Winterzeit"
6 Oechsner: "Frühling, schöner"
7 Hensel, Oechsner: "Komm'"
8 Hensel: "Lied"
9 Hensel, Oechsner: "ach"
10 Hensel: "wie soll ich leben, wenn ich schied?"

by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
1. The red leaves are rustling
Language: English 
At my feet the red leaves are rustling,
But when [the leaves] turn green again, where shall I be?
Where shall the first swallows greet me?
Ah far away, far from the sweet one,
And I shall nevermore be a happy man.

Once I always sang through meadow and mountain slope
In the brown autumn, in the snowy wintertime:
Oh lovely spring, come to your forest,
Come soon, soon, soon!
Now I sing:  Lovely spring, stay far away!

In vain! Just as now heath and forest are stripped,
So shall they bloom anew; what care they for my [sorrow]1?
The violet comes, I must simply suffer it,
Must wander and must part,
But [oh! how shall I live after I have taken farewell!]2

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 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.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in German (Deutsch) by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884), no title, appears in Jugendgedichte, in 1. Erstes Buch, in Lieder als Intermezzo, no. 40
    • Go to the text page.

Go to the general single-text view

View original text (without footnotes)

Translations of title(s):
"Es rauscht das rothe Laub" = "The red leaves are rustling"
"Im Herbst" = "In autumn"
"Es rauscht das rothe Laub zu meinen Füssen" = "At my feet the red leaves are rustling"
"Es rauscht das rote Laub" = "The red leaves are rustling"

1 Hensel: "song"
2 Hensel: "ah! how am I to live after I have departed?"


This text was added to the website: 2018-09-26
Line count: 15
Word count: 125

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
2. Lied des Todtengräbers  [sung text not yet checked]
by Wilhelm Reinhard Berger (1861 - 1911), "Lied des Todtengräbers", op. 11 (Vier Lieder für 1 Stimme mit Pianoforte) no. 2, published 1883 [ bass or baritone and piano ], Bremen, Praeger & Meier
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Grabe, Spaden, grabe!
Alles, was ich habe,
Dank' ich, Spaden, dir!
Reich' und arme Leute
Werden meine Beute,
Kommen einst zu mir!

Weiland groß und edel,
Nickte dieser Schädel
Keinem Grusse Dank!
Dieses Beingerippe
Ohne Wang' und Lippe
Hatte Gold und Rang.

Jener Kopf mit Haaren
War vor wenig Jahren
Schön, wie Engel sind!
Tausend junge Fentchen
Leckten ihm das Händchen,
Gafften sich halb blind!

Grabe, Spaden, grabe!
Alles, was ich habe,
Dank' ich, Spaden, dir!
Reich' und arme Leute
Werden meine Beute,
Kommen einst zu mir!

Text Authorship:

  • by Ludwig Heinrich Christoph Hölty (1748 - 1776), "Todtengräberlied", written 1775, first published 1777

See other settings of this text.

Confirmed with Gedichte von Ludewig Heinrich Christoph Hölty. Besorgt durch seine Freunde Friederich Leopold Grafen zu Stolberg und Johann Heinrich Voß. Hamburg, bei Carl Ernst Bohn. 1783, pages 44-45, with Poetische Blumenlese für das Jahr 1777. Herausgegeben von Joh. Heinr. Voß. Hamburg, bey Carl Ernst Bohn, pages 60-61, and with Ludwig Christoph Heinrich Hölty's Sämtliche Werke kritisch und chronologisch herausgegeben von Wilhelm Michael, Erster Band, Weimar, Gesellschaft der Bibliophilen, 1914, page 195.

Note: Modern spelling would change "Spaden" to "Spaten" (line 1-1) and "Fentchen" to "Fäntchen" (line 3-4)


by Ludwig Heinrich Christoph Hölty (1748 - 1776)
2. Grave-digger's song
Language: English 
Dig, spade, dig!
Everything that I have
I thank you for, spade!
Both rich and poor people
Will be my prey,
Will come one day to me.

Formerly great and noble,
this skull nodded
no return of greetings.
This skeleton
without cheeks and lips
had once gold and rank.

That head with hair
Was just a few years ago
beautiful, as angels are.
A thousand young fops
licked his hands,
and gaped themselves half blind.

Dig, spade, dig!
Everything that I have
I thank you for, spade!
Both rich and poor people
Will be my prey,
Will come one day to me.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Emily Ezust

    Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:

    Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
    from the LiederNet Archive

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.
    licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in German (Deutsch) by Ludwig Heinrich Christoph Hölty (1748 - 1776), "Todtengräberlied", written 1775, first published 1777
    • Go to the text page.

Go to the general single-text view


This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 102

Translation © by Emily Ezust
3. Es glich dem Maienthaue  [sung text not yet checked]
by Wilhelm Reinhard Berger (1861 - 1911), "Es glich dem Maienthaue", op. 11 (Vier Lieder für 1 Stimme mit Pianoforte) no. 3, published 1883 [ voice and piano ], Bremen, Praeger & Meier
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Es glich dem Maienthaue 
Vor Zeiten meine Lieb;
An jeder Blume der Aue
Ein Tropfen haften blieb.
Und kann die Sonne gezogen
Am blauen Himmelsrund,
Der Thau ward aufgesogen
Von ihrem heissen Mund.

Nun gleicht dem Quell mein Minnen,
Der hat der Tropfen viel,
Und seine Wellen rinnen
Zu einem einz'gen Ziel.
Sie rauschen leise Lieder
Der schlanken Weide am Rain,
Sie neigt sich lauschend nieder. --
Ach Lieb, wann wirst du mein? 

Text Authorship:

  • by Rudolph Baumbach (1840 - 1905), "Thautropfen und Quell", appears in Spielmannslieder

See other settings of this text.

Confirmed with Rudolf Baumbach, Spielmannslieder, Leipzig: Verlag von A. G. Liebeskind, 1883, page 75.


by Rudolph Baumbach (1840 - 1905)
3. Like the dew of May
Language: English 
In the past my loving
Was like the dew of May;
A droplet would cling
To every flower in the meadow.
And if the sun came along
The blue dome of heaven,
The dew would be sucked up
By the sun's fervent lips.

Now my loving is like the water-spring
That has many droplets,
And its waves run
Toward only one goal.
They sough quiet songs
To the slender willow at the marge,
It bends down, listening. --
Ah love, when shall you be mine?

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2022 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.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in German (Deutsch) by Rudolph Baumbach (1840 - 1905), "Thautropfen und Quell", appears in Spielmannslieder
    • Go to the text page.

Go to the general single-text view

Translations of title(s):
"Es glich dem Maienthaue" = "Like the dew of May"
"Thautropfen und Quell" = "Dewdrop and water-spring"



This text was added to the website: 2022-06-15
Line count: 16
Word count: 84

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
4. Lenznacht  [sung text not yet checked]
by Wilhelm Reinhard Berger (1861 - 1911), "Lenznacht", op. 11 (Vier Lieder für 1 Stimme mit Pianoforte) no. 4, published 1883 [ voice and piano ], Bremen, Praeger & Meier
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Der Flieder duftet, die Rose blüht,
Komm herab in den nächtlichen Garten,
Das Mondlicht zittert, die Seele mir glüht,
Komm herab, laß umsonst mich nicht warten!
Hörst du nicht flüstern die Buchen im Hain,
Hörst du nicht singen die Waldvöglein?
So süß, so rein?
O laß den Geliebten nicht warten!

Die Rosen duften, es blüht der Jasmin,
Es schlagen die Nachtigallen,
Tauperlen flimmern im Wiesengrün
Und leise die Wogen wallen.
O komm herab in die blühende Nacht,
Der Lenz und die Liebe sind beide erwacht
Mit Macht, mit Macht, --
Komm herab, unter Blumen zu wallen!

Sie öffnet das Fenster, sie winkt mit dem Tuch
Schon wallt sie durch blühende Auen,
Ihr Götter! Ist es kein Traum, kein Trug?
Sie erhört mich die schönste der Frauen!
Sie schwebte herab in die Frühlingsnacht,
Der Lenz und die Liebe sind beide erwacht
Mit Macht, mit Macht, --
Gott grüß dich, du schönste der Frauen!

Text Authorship:

  • by Theodor Souchay (1833 - 1903), no title, appears in Frisch vom Herzen! Lieder und Dichtungen, in 3. Lieder der Liebe, no. 8

Go to the general single-text view

Confirmed with Theodor Souchay, Frisch vom Herzen! Lieder und Dichtungen, Stuttgart: Druck und Verlag von Greiner & Pfeiffer, 1886, page 62.


by Theodor Souchay (1833 - 1903)
4. Spring night
Language: English 
The lilac is filling the air with scent, the rose is blooming,
Come down into the nighttime garden,
The moonlight trembles, my soul is ablaze,
Come down, do not let me wait in vain!
Do you not hear the beeches whispering in the grove,
Do you not hear the forest birds singing
So sweetly, so purely?
Oh, do not keep your beloved waiting!

The roses are filling the air with scent, the jasmine is blooming,
The nightingales are jugging,
Pearls of dew glitter in the green of the meadow
And the waves surge quietly.
Oh, come down into the blossoming night,
Springtime and love have both wakened
Mightily, mightily, --
Come down to wander among the flowers!

She opens the window, she waves with her shawl,
Already she is wandering through the blooming meadows,
Ye gods! Is it not a dream, not a deception?
She grants me my wish, the loveliest of women!
She drifted down into the spring night,
Springtime and love have both wakened
Mightily, mightily, --
God greet you, loveliest of women!

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.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in German (Deutsch) by Theodor Souchay (1833 - 1903), no title, appears in Frisch vom Herzen! Lieder und Dichtungen, in 3. Lieder der Liebe, no. 8
    • Go to the text page.

Go to the general single-text view


This text was added to the website: 2023-10-12
Line count: 24
Word count: 173

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

Donate

We use cookies for internal analytics and to earn much-needed advertising revenue. (Did you know you can help support us by turning off ad-blockers?) To learn more, see our Privacy Policy. To learn how to opt out of cookies, please visit this site.

I acknowledge the use of cookies

Contact
Copyright
Privacy

Copyright © 2025 The LiederNet Archive

Site redesign by Shawn Thuris