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Songs of the Orient. Poems from the Persian and Chinese by Hans Bethge
Translations © by Sharon Krebs
by Richard Georg Strauss (1864 - 1949)
View original-language texts alone: Gesänge des Orients. Nachdichtungen aus dem Persischen und Chinesischen von Hans Bethge
Deine gewölbten Brauen, o Geliebte, Sind Paradieseslauben, darunter lächelnd Die holden Engel deiner Augen wohnen. Der Glanz, der durch die Welt gebreitet ist, Geht aus von diesen Engeln, die den Schimmer Mitbrachten aus der Flur des Paradieses.
Text Authorship:
- by Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946)
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
Your arched eyebrows, oh Beloved, Are bowers of paradise, under which smilingly The lovely angels of your eyes dwell. The radiance that is spread throughout the world, Emanates from these angels, who brought Their shimmer along from the meadows of paradise.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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 Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946)
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-25
Line count: 6
Word count: 41
Gebt mir meinen Becher! Seht, er überstrahlt Die blasse Lampe der Vernunft, so wie Die Sonne die Gestirne überstrahlt! Gebt mir meinen Becher! Sämtliche Gebete Meines Breviers will ich vergessen, alle Suren des Korans stürz ich in den Wein! Gebt mir meinen Becher! Und Gesang erschalle Und dringe zu den tanzenden Sphären auf Mit mächtigem Schwung! Ich bin der Herr der Welt!
Text Authorship:
- by Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Schwung"
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
Confirmed with Hans Bethe, Hafis Nachdichtungen, Kelkheim: YinYang Media Verlag, 2004, page 26.
Give me my goblet! See, it outshines The pale lamp of reason, just as The sun outshines the stars! Give me my goblet! All the prayers Within my breviary I wish to forget, all The surahs of the Koran I plunge into the wine! Give me my goblet! And may songs ring out And rise up to the dancing spheres With a mighty impetus! I am the lord of the world!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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 Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Schwung"
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-09-25
Line count: 9
Word count: 71
Ich pflückte eine kleine Pfirsichblüte Und brachte sie der schönen jungen Frau, Die Lippen hat -- o rosiger, beim Himmel, Und zarter als die feinsten Pfirsichblüten. Und eine schwarze Schwalbe fing ich ein Und brachte sie der schönen jungen Frau, Die Augenbrauen hat, so schlank und dunkel Wie einer Schwalbe schlankes Flügelpaar. Am andern Tage war die Pfirsichblüte Verwelkt, die Schwalbe aber war entflohn In jene fernen blauen Berge, wo Der Genius der Pfirsichblüten wohnt. Jedoch der Mund der schönen jungen Frau Blieb süß und rosig, wie er voher glänzte, Und ihrer Augenbrauen Flügelpaar Flog nicht davon und ziert sie immerzu.
Text Authorship:
- by Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Liebesgeschenke", appears in Die chinesische Flöte
See other settings of this text.
I picked a little peach blossom And brought it to the beautiful young woman, Who has lips -- oh! rosier, by heaven, And more delicate than the finest peach blossoms. And I caught a black swallow, And brought it to the beautiful young woman, Who has eyebrows, so slender and dark As the slender pair of a swallow's wings. The next day the peach blossom was Withered, but the swallow had escaped to those distant blue mountains, In which the genius of peach blossoms lives. But the lips of the beautiful young woman Remained sweet and rosy, gleaming as before, And the winged pair of her eyebrows Did not fly away and still adorns her.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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 Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Liebesgeschenke", appears in Die chinesische Flöte
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-03-11
Line count: 16
Word count: 114
Die höchste Macht der Erde sitzt auf keinem Thron. Sie blüht in deinem Angesicht, du Herrliche! Der Tag wird durch die goldne Sonne nicht erhellt, Aus deinen Augen fließt das wundervolle Licht! In deinen schlanken Händen ruht die Macht des Lebens Und auch die dunkle Macht des Todes, wie du willst. Du Schlimme tust des Bösens ein gehäuftes Maß. Tu es getrost, der Himmel zürnt dir nicht. Der Engel Pflicht wär, aufzuschreiben, Was du Böses tust, sie walten ihres Amtes nicht. Sie lieben dich.
Text Authorship:
- by Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Die Allmächtige"
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
The greatest power of earth does not sit upon any throne. It blooms in your visage, you magnificent one! The day is not brightened by the golden sun, From out your eyes flows the wondrous light! In your slender hands rests the might of life And also the dark might of death, as you wish. You wicked one, you do a heaping measure of evil. Do it confidently, heaven is not angry with you. It would be the duty of the angels to write down The evil things you do, [but] they do not carry out their charge. They love you.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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 Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946), "Die Allmächtige"
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-05-19
Line count: 11
Word count: 101
Die Perlen meiner Seele Haben keinen andern Sinn, du Süße, Als daß ich sie hinstreue, Vor deine kleinen launischen Füße. Solange meine Pulse schlagen, Gehör ich dir. Wenn ich dereinst begraben bin, Werde ich als Staub vom Grab her wirbeln Und den Saum deines Gewandes küssen, Voller Liebe. Du meinst mir Kränkendes zu sagen. Du irrst dich. Deine Bitterkeiten gehn über Lippen, Die so süß sind, daß alles, Was mein Ohr erreicht, Nur liebevolles Schmeicheln ist. Niemals kommen wir zusammen, Du und ich, Was ich dir zuliebe tu, Verschmähst du. Gram, den du mir zufügst, streif ich ab. Schmück ich dich mit allen Kostbarkeiten, Zürnst du mir. Und deine Zornesworte Lächelnd nehm ich sie Wie einen Gruß der Gnade auf. Ich möchte aus deinem Haar Eine endlose Flechte winden, Um mich hinzuschwingen Von Stern zu Stern, Um allen kreisenden Welten Frohlockend deine Schönheit zu künden.
Text Authorship:
- by Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946)
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
See other settings of this text.
The pearls of my soul Are of no other use, you sweet one, But that I strew them Before your little, capricious feet. As long as my pulse beats, I belong to you. When someday I am buried, I shall swirl hither as dust from the grave And shall kiss the hem of your garment, Full of love. You think you are saying insulting things to me. You are wrong. Your bitter words pass over lips That are so sweet, that everything That reaches my ears Is only loving adulation. We shall never be united You and I, What I do for love of you, You spurn. Grief that you cause me, I shrug off. If I adorn you with every treasure, You are angry with me. And your words of wrath I smilingly accept Like a greeting of grace. From your hair I would like To weave an endless braid, In order to swing myself From star to star, To joyfully proclaim your beauty To all the orbiting worlds.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 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 Hans Bethge (1876 - 1946)
Based on:
- a text in Persian (Farsi) by Hafis (c1327 - 1390) [text unavailable]
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-06-23
Line count: 33
Word count: 170