The son of the king

Translations © by Sharon Krebs

Song Cycle by Robert Schumann (1810 - 1856)

View original-language texts alone: Der Königssohn

1.
 (Sung text)
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Der alte, graue König sitzt
Auf seiner Väter Throne;
Sein Mantel glänzt wie Abendrot,
Wie sinkende Sonne die Krone.

"Mein erster und mein zweiter Sohn!
Euch teil ich meine Lande.
Mein dritter Sohn, mein liebstes Kind!
Was laß ich dir zum Pfande?"

"Gib mir von allen Schätzen nur
Die alte, rost'ge Krone!
Gib mir drei Schiffe! so fahr ich hin
Und suche nach einem Throne."

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by Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
1.
Language: English 
The old, grey king sits
Upon the throne of his fathers;
His robe glows like a sunset,
The crown like a sinking sun.
 
"My firstborn and my second son!
I divide my lands between you.
My third son, my most beloved child!
What shall I pledge to you?"
 
"Give me of all your treasures only
The old, rusty crown!
Give me three ships and I shall fare forth
And search for a throne."

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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This text was added to the website: 2015-04-28
Line count: 12
Word count: 73

Translation © by Sharon Krebs

 (The following is a multi-text setting.)

2. Der Jüngling steht auf dem Verdeck 
Der Jüngling steht auf dem Verdeck,
Sieht seine Schiffe fahren,
Die Sonne strahlt, es spielt die Luft
Mit seinen goldnen Haaren.

Das Ruder schallt, das Segel schwillt,
Die bunten Wimpel fliegen,
Meerfrauen mit Gesang und Spiel
Sich um die Kiele wiegen.

 ...  "Das ist mein Königreich,
Das frei und lustig streifet,
Das um die träge Erde her
Auf blauen Fluten schweifet."

Da ziehen finstre Wolken auf
Mit Sturm und  ...  Gewitter.
Die Blitze zucken aus der Nacht,
Die Maste springen in Splitter.

Und Wogen stürzen auf das Schiff,
So wilde, Bergen gleiche;
Verschlungen ist der Königssohn
Sammt seinem lust'gen Reiche.

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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor] 
Fischer:
 Versunken, wehe, Mast und Kiel!
 Der Schiffer Ruf verschollen!
 Doch sieh, wer schwimmet dort herbei,
 Um den die Wogen rollen?

 Er schlägt mit starkem Arm die Flut
 Und fürchtet die Wellen wenig,
 Trägt hoch das Haupt mit goldner Kron,
 Er dünkt mir wohl ein König.

Jüngling:
 Ein Königssohn, mir aber ist
 Die Heimat längst verloren.
 Erst hat die schwache Mutter mich,
 Die irdische, geboren,

 Doch nun gebar die zweite Mutter,
 Das starke Meer, mich wieder.
 In Riesenarmen wiegte sie
 Mich selbst und meine Brüder.

 Die andern all ertrugen's nicht,
 Mich brachte sie hier zum Strande.
 Zum Reiche wohl erkor sie mir
 All diese weiten Lande.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Author(s): Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
2. 
The youth stands upon the deck,
Sees his ships a-sailing,
The sun gleams, the breezes play
With his golden locks.
 
The oars resound, the sail swells,
The colourful pennants flutter,
Singing and playing, mermaids
Cavort about the keel.
 
 ...  That is my kingdom
That freely and merrily ranges,
That, encircling the lazy world,
Roves upon the blue waters.
 
Then dark clouds appear
Bringing tempests and  ...  thunderstorms.
The lightning bolts streak from out the night,
The masts burst into splinters.
 
The waves dash themselves onto the ship,
Such wild waves, waves like mountains;
The king's son is consumed
With his whole merry kingdom.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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Translated titles:
"Der Königssohn" = "The son of the king"
"Der Jüngling steht auf dem Verdeck" = "The youth stands upon the deck"


Fisherman:
 Sunk, alas, mast and keel!
 The cries of the ship's crew have died away!
 But see, who is swimming toward us there,
 About whom the waves roll?
 
 With strong arms he parts the flood
 And has little fear of the waves,
 His head with a golden crown he carries high,
 It seems to me he is a king.
 
Youth:
 A king's son, but I have long since
 Lost my homeland.
 First my weak mother,
 The earthly one, bore me.
 
 But now by a second mother,
 The powerful sea, I was born a second time.
 In giant arms she rocked
 Me and my brethren.
 
 The others all could not bear it,
 Me she brought here to the shore.
 It must mean that as a kingdom she has chosen
 For me all these wide lands.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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Translation © by Sharon Krebs

 (The following is a multi-text setting.)

3. Was spähest du nach der Angel 
Fischer
 Was spähest du nach der Angel
 Von Morgen bist zur Nacht,
 Und hast mit aller Mühe doch
 Kein Fischlein aufgebracht?

Jüngling
 Ich angle nicht nach Fischen,
 Ich sah in Meeresschacht,
 Wohl jeder Angel allzu tief,
 Viel königliche Pracht.

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Researcher for this page: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor] 
Wie schreitet königlich der Leu!
Schüttelt die Mähn in die Lüfte.
Er ruft sein Machtgebot
Durch Wälder und Klüfte.

Doch werd ich ihn stürzen
Mit dem Speer in starker Hand,
Um die Schultern mir schürzen
Sein Goldgewand.

Der Aar, ein König, schwebet auf,
Er rauschet in Wonne,
Will langen sich zur Kron herab
Die goldne Sonne.

Doch in den Wolken hoch
Soll ihn fah'n und spießen
Mein geflügelter Pfeil,
Daß er mir sinke zu Füßen.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Author(s): Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
3. The fisherman
Fisherman:
 Why do you gaze at your fishing rod
 From morning until night,
 And yet with all your effort
 You have not hauled out a single fish?
 
Youth:
 I do not angle after fish,
 I saw in an ocean chasm,
 Likely too deep for any rod,
 Much royal splendour.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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How regally the lion strides!
He shakes his mane in the breezes.
He sends his mighty command
Through forests and rocky crags.
 
Yet I shall fell him
With the spear in my strong hand,
And shall garb my shoulders
With his golden mantle.
 
The eagle, a king, rises aloft,
He rushes through the air in bliss,
He desires to reach and bring down
The golden sun as a crown for himself.
 
But high up in the clouds
He shall be caught and speared
By my winged arrow,
So that he sinks at my feet.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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Translation © by Sharon Krebs
4.
 (Sung text)
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Im Walde läuft ein wildes Pferd,
Hat nie den Zaum gelitten,
Goldfalb, mit langer, dichter Mähn,
Schlägt Funken bei allen Tritten.

Der Königssohn, er fängt es ein,
Hat sich darauf geschwungen,
Es bläht die Brust und schwingt den Schweif,
Kommt wiehernd hergesprungen.

Und alle horchen staunend auf,
Die in den Tälern hausen.
Sie hören's vom Gebirge her
Wie Sturm und Donner brausen.

Da sprengt herab der Königssohn,
Umwallt vom Fell des Leuen,
Des wilden Rosses Mähne fleugt,
Die Hufe Feuer streuen.

Da drängt sich alles Volk herzu
Mit Jubel und Gesange:
"Heil uns! er ist's, der König ist's,
Den wir erharrt so lange!"

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by Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
4.
Language: English 
A wild horse runs in the wood,
It has never suffered a bridle;
Dun-gold, with a long, thick mane,
Sparks fly with its every step.
 
The king's son, he catches it,
Has swung himself onto its back;
It puffs out its chest and swings its tail,
Comes leaping up with a whinny.
 
And everyone listens astounded,
[Everyone] who lives in the valleys.
From the mountains they hear it
Roaring like storm and thunder.
 
The king's son comes charging down,
The lion's pelt flowing about him;
The wild horse's mane flies,
Its hooves scatter flames.
 
The entire populace surges around
With cheering and singing:
"It is well for us! It is he, it is the king
For whom we have waited so long!"

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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This text was added to the website: 2015-06-09
Line count: 20
Word count: 122

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
5.
 (Sung text)
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Es steht ein hoher, schroffer Fels,
Darum die Adler fliegen,
Doch wagt sich keiner drauf herab,
Den Drachen seh'n sie liegen.

In alten Mauern liegt er dort
Mit seinem goldnen Kamme,
Er rasselt mit der Schuppenhaut,
Er hauchet Dampf und Flamme.

Der Jüngling, ohne Schwert und Schild,
Ist keck hinaufgedrungen,
Die Arme wirft er um die Schlang
Und hält sie fest umrungen.

Er küßt sie dreimal in den Schlund,
Da muß der Zauber weichen,
Er hält im Arm ein holdes Weib,
Das schönst' in allen Reichen.

Die herrliche, gekrönte Braut
Hat er am Herzen liegen,
Und aus den alten Trümmern ist
Ein Königsschloß gestiegen.

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by Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
5. The king's son
Language: English 
There stands a tall, craggy cliff
About which the eagles fly,
Yet no eagle dares to descend upon it;
They see the dragon lying there.
 
In the old stone walls he lies
With his golden comb;
He rattles his scaly skin,
He breathes out steam and flames.
 
The youth, without a sword or shield,
Has boldly made his way up there.
He throws his arms about the snake
And holds it tightly encircled.
 
Three times he kisses its cavernous maw.
The enchantment broken,
In his arms he holds a lovely woman,
The most beautiful in all realms.
 
The glorious, crowned bride
Is lying upon his heart,
And from the ancient ruins
Has risen a royal palace.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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This text was added to the website: 2015-06-09
Line count: 20
Word count: 116

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
6.
 (Sung text)
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Der König und die Königin,
Sie stehen auf dem Throne,
Da glüht der Thron wie Morgenrot,
Wie steigende Sonn die Krone.

Viel stolze Ritter stehn umher,
Die Schwerter in den Händen,
Sie können ihre Augen nicht
Vom lichten Throne wenden.

Ein alter, blinder Sänger steht,
An seiner Harf gelehnet,
Er fühlet, daß die Zeit erschien,
Die er so lang ersehnet.

Und plötzlich springt vom hohen Glanz
Der Augen finstre Hülle.
Er schaut hinauf und wird nicht satt
Der Herrlichkeit und Fülle.

Welch' Wunder enthüllt dem Auge sich, 
welch' gleichenloses Wunder!

Im Dunkel war das Aug' gehüllt, 
die Sonne leuchtet wieder; 
Euch bring' ich, Hohe, wonn' erfüllt, 
den Dank der ersten Lieder!

Geblendet von der neuen Pracht, 
wo berg' ich meine Blicke! 
Schliesst, Augen, euch, dass nicht die Nacht 
von Neuem euch umstricke.

Nun das Auge geschaut 
die höchste Pracht, 
nun sing' ich mein letztes, 
mein schönstes Lied:

Gepriesen sei der Königssohn, 
der selbst sich erkämpft den Herrscherthron; 
gepriesen sei sein hold Gemahl, 
das er kühn befreit aus Zaubers Qual.

Und gepriesen auch, was aus ihrem Bund blühet empor, 
gepriesen, gepriesen sei das ganze Königshaus!
Heil dem Herrscherpaar, gepriesen sei das Herrscherpaar!

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by Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787 - 1862)
6.
Language: English 
The king and the queen,
They stand upon the throne,
Thereupon the throne flames like the glow of morning,
The crown glows like the rising sun.
 
Many proud knights stand around them,
Swords in their hands;
They cannot take their eyes off
The bright throne.
 
An old, blind minstrel stands
Leaning on his harp,
He perceives that the time for which he
Yearned for so long has come.
 
And suddenly from the great radiance
The dark covering of his eyes is rent.
He looks upward and cannot get enough
Of the glory and abundance.
 
[He begins to pluck the strings of his harp,
Which rang out brightly,
In light and bliss he sang
His swan song.] 1

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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Translation of title "Ballade aus dem "Königssohn" = "Ballad from "The king's son"

1 Schumann: 
What a marvel is revealed to the eyes,
What an unparalleled marvel!
 
The eyes had been shrouded in darkness,
Now the sun shines again;
To you, lofty ones, I bring full of joy
The first song of thanksgiving!
 
Blinded by the new splendour,
Where do I hide my eyes!
Close, eyes, that night may not
Bind you anew.
 
Now that my eyes have seen
The greatest splendour,
Now I shall sing my last,
My most beautiful song:
 
Praise be to the king’s son
Who won for himself the throne of a monarch;
Praise be to his lovely wife,
Whom he valiantly freed from the agony of an enchantment.
 
And praise be as well to that which shall bloom from their union,
Praised, praised be the entire dynasty!
All hail the pair of monarchs, praise be to the pair of monarchs!


This text was added to the website: 2015-06-24
Line count: 20
Word count: 117

Translation © by Sharon Krebs