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Vier Gedichte
Translations © by Bertram Kottmann
Song Cycle by Margaret Carter Metcalf (d. 1957)
View original-language texts alone: Four Poems
If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.
Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 19, first published 1912
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 19 [text unavailable]
See other settings of this text.
Wenn Du nicht sprichst, füll ich mein Herz mit deinem Schweigen und dulde es. Ich halte still und harre wie der Nacht gestirnte Wacht, geduldig tief gebeugten Haupts. Der Morgen kommt gewiss, die Dunkelheit wird weichen, und deine Stimme wird vom Himmel golden strömen. Dann werden deine Worte sich von jedem Nest als Lied erheben und deine Melodien werden neu in jedem Hain erblühen.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.
Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 19, first published 1912
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 19 [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-12
Line count: 19
Word count: 64
Day after day, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to face? With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, shall I stand before thee face to face? Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face? In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle, among hurrying crowds shall I stand before thee face to face? And when my work shall be done in this world, O King of kings, alone and speechless shall I stand before thee face to face?
Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 76, first published 1912
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 76 [text unavailable]
See other settings of this text.
This autumn morning is tired with excess of light, and if your songs grow fitful and languid give me your flute awhile. I shall but play with it as the whim takes me, -- now take it on my lap, now touch it with my lips, now keep it by my side on the grass. But in the solemn evening stillness I shall gather flowers, to deck it with wreaths, I shall fill it with fragrance; I shall worship it with the lighted lamp. Then at night I shall come to you and give you back your flute. You will play on it the music of midnight when the lonely crescent moon wanders among the stars.
Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in Fruit-Gathering, no. 22
Go to the general single-text view
Dieser Vormittag im Herbst ist matt vom Übermaß an Licht, und falls sie launisch und gelangweilt werden, deine Lieder, dann gib mir ein Weile deine Flöte. Ich werd’ auf ihr nur ganz nach Lust und Laune spielen, — leg sie mal in den Schoß, führ sie mal an den Mund, hüt sie an meiner Seite dort im Grünen. Doch in des Abends feierlicher Stille werd’ ich wohl Blumen brechen, und sie mit Blütenkränzen schmücken, mit ihrem Wohlgeruch erfüllen; und sie verehren mit der Lampe Licht. Des Nachts komm ich zu dir und geb' dir deine Flöte wieder. Und wenn der Sichelmond einsam der Sterne Flur durchstreift, wirst du Musik der Mitternacht auf deiner Flöte spielen.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.
Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), appears in Fruit-Gathering, no. 22
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-12
Line count: 12
Word count: 115
Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang. The night is dark. The stars are lost in clouds. The wind is sighing through the leaves. I will let loose my hair. My blue cloak will cling round me like [night]1. I will clasp your head to my bosom; And there in the sweet loneliness murmur on your heart. I will shut my eyes and listen. I will not look in your face. When your words are ended, we will sit still and silent. Only the trees will whisper in the dark. The night will pale. The day will dawn. We shall look at each other's eyes and go on our different paths. Speak to me, my love! Tell me in words what you sang.
Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in The Gardener, no. 29, first published 1915
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941) [text unavailable]
See other settings of this text.
View original text (without footnotes)1 Bridge: "the night"
Sprich zu mir, mein Freund! Sag' es mit Worten, was du sangst. Schwarz ist die Nacht. Die Sterne im Gewölk versunken. Der Wind, er seufzt im Blätterdach. Mein Haar werde ich lösen. Und wie die Nacht wird dich mein blaues Cape umfangen. Ich werd' dein Haupt an meinem Busen bergen; in dieser wonn'gen Einsamkeit an deinem Herzen raunen. Ich werd' die Augen schließen - lauschen. Mein Blick wird deinem nicht begegnen. Wenn du geendet hast, dann werden wir in Stille sitzen - schweigen. Nur Bäume werden flüstern dann im Dunkel. Die Nacht wird bleich. Der Tag erwacht. Wir werden uns dann in die Augen schauen und unserer Wege ziehen. Sprich zu mir, mein Freund. Sag es mit Worten, was du sangst.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2011 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.
Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in The Gardener, no. 29, first published 1915
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2011-09-09
Line count: 21
Word count: 119