English translations of Vier Lieder für tiefere Stimme und Klavier, opus 14
by Othmar Schoeck (1886 - 1957)
Siehe, von allen den Liedern nicht eines gilt dir, o Mutter! Dich zu preisen, o glaub's, bin ich zu arm und zu reich. Ein noch ungesungenes Lied ruhst du mir [im]1 Busen, Keinem vernehmbar sonst, mich nur zu trösten bestimmt, Wenn sich das Herz unmutig der Welt abwendet und einsam Seines himmlischen Teils [bleibenden]2 Frieden bedenkt.
Text Authorship:
- by Eduard Mörike (1804 - 1875), "An meine Mutter"
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View original text (without footnotes)1 ? : "am"
2 Wetzel : "ewigen"
See, of all the songs not one is adequate, o Mother, To praise you, I think! I am too poor and too rich. A still unsung melody, holds me to thy bosom, nothing else can provide, such comfort to me, when this heart in pain turns away from the world and alone its heavenly part considers eternal peace.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by John H. Campbell, (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 Eduard Mörike (1804 - 1875), "An meine Mutter"
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This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 6
Word count: 58
In begrünter Sommerlaube, d'ran die schwanken Winden ranken, sitzt und sinnt die blonde Jungfrau, Schläfrig summen Bienenflüge. Und der Springquell plätschert träumrisch, zwitschernd schwirren Giebelschwalben; und aus lauen Blauen Lüften schaukeln Falter auf die Blumen. Die gesunknen weissen Lider überhaucht ein leiser Schlummer; kommt des Wegs ein blasser Wandrer durch des Gartens blüh'nde Büsche, kommt der Wandrer Tod gegangen, an die dürren Lippen setzt er eine Flöte grau und beinern, spielt der Schläferin ein feines, schwermutvolles Schlummerlied.
Text Authorship:
- by Adolf Frey (1855 - 1920), appears in Gedichte, in Totentanz
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In the green summer foliage, where the vibrating vines creep, the blonde maiden sits and thinks, the flitting bees humming drowsily. The fountain babbles dreamily, swallows twitter and chirp; from the warm blue sky come breezes that swing the butterflies to and fro upon the flowers. Upon white, closed eyelids breathes gentle slumber. A pale traveller comes down the path through the flowering bushes of the garden; the traveler Death is coming. At his withered lips he holds a flute, made of grey bone, and he plays to the slumberer a pretty and melancholy lullaby.
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 ArchiveFor 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 Adolf Frey (1855 - 1920), appears in Gedichte, in Totentanz
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2003-10-12
Line count: 17
Word count: 95
Klingend schlagen hier die Finken, heimlich tönt der Welle Rauschen, und der Zweige leisem Winken ist es lieblich hier zu lauschen. Eh' die Welle zieht von hinnen, schwankt sie zögernd, ob sie bliebe, wo sich weiche Winde minnen; und die Blume nickt, ich liebe.
The finches sing their tinkling song here, the waves murmur secret things, and the gentle rustling of the branches is lovely to hear. Before the wave retreats, it lingers hesitantly, as if it wished to remain where the soft breezes flirt; and the flower nods: I love you.
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 ArchiveFor 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 Adolf Frey (1855 - 1920)
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2003-10-12
Line count: 8
Word count: 49
Schlafen, Schlafen, nichts als Schlafen! Kein Erwachen, kein Traum Jener Wehen, die mich trafen, Leisestes Erinnern kaum, Daß ich, wenn des Lebens Fülle Niederklingt in meine Ruh', Nur noch tiefer mich verhülle, Fester zu die Augen thu'!
Text Authorship:
- by (Christian) Friedrich Hebbel (1813 - 1863), no title, appears in Gedichte, in 4. Dem Schmerz sein Recht, no. 4
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To sleep, to sleep, nothing but to sleep! No awaking, no dream! Of those sorrows that I suffered, hardly the faintest recollection. So that I, when the fullness of life reverberates into my rest, I will only cover myself even more deeply, and more tightly close my eyes!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Jakob Kellner, (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 (Christian) Friedrich Hebbel (1813 - 1863), no title, appears in Gedichte, in 4. Dem Schmerz sein Recht, no. 4
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 8
Word count: 48