Spanish Songbook : Secular Songs

Song Cycle by Hugo Wolf (1860 - 1903)

Word count: 3605
Original language: Spanisches Liederbuch: Weltliche Lieder
1. Klinge, klinge mein Pandero [sung text checked 1 time]
Klinge, klinge, mein Pandero,
Doch an andres denkt mein Herz.
 
Wenn du, muntres Ding, verständest
Meine Qual und sie empfändest,
Jeder Ton, den du entsendest,
Würde klagen meinen Schmerz.
 
Bei des Tanzes Drehn und Neigen
Schlag' ich wild den Takt zum Reigen,
Daß nur die Gedanken schweigen,
Die mich mahnen an den Schmerz.
 
Ach, ihr Herrn, dann will im Schwingen
Oftmals mir die Brust zerspringen,
Und zum Angstschrei wird mein Singen,
Denn an andres denkt mein Herz.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Confirmed with Volkslieder und Romanzen der Spanier im Versmasse des Originals verdeutscht durch Emanuel Geibel, Berlin: Verlag von Alexander Duncker, 1843, page 26


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
1.
Ring, ring, my tambourine,
Yet, my heart dwells on other things.

If you, merry thing, could understand
And appreciate my suffering,
Each sound, that you produce,
Would bemoan my pain.

With each twist and dip of the dance
I mark the beat of the swirling frenzy,
To silence the thoughts
That only remind me of my pain.

O then, comrades, with wings
My breast longs to burst forth,
And my singing becomes a cry of anguish,
For my heart dwells on other things.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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 "Klinge, klinge, mein Pandero" = "Ring, ring, my tambourine"


Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-02-04 13:55:36
Line count: 14
Word count: 83

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
2. In dem Schatten meiner Locken [sung text checked 1 time]
In dem Schatten meiner Locken
Schlief mir mein Geliebter ein.
Weck' ich ihn nun auf? -- Ach nein!

Sorglich strählt' ich meine krausen
Locken täglich in der Frühe,
Doch umsonst ist meine Mühe,
Weil die Winde sie zerzausen.
Lockenschatten, Windessausen
Schläferten den Liebsten ein.
Weck' ich ihn nun auf? -- Ach nein!

Hören muß ich, wie ihn gräme,
Daß er schmachtet schon so lange,
Daß ihm Leben [geb' und nehme]1
Diese meine braune Wange,
Und er nennt mich seine Schlange,
Und doch schlief er bei mir ein.
Weck' ich ihn nun auf? -- Ach nein!

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , no title, copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
Confirmed with Spanisches Liederbuch von Emanuel Geibel und Paul Heyse, Berlin, Verlag von Wilhelm Herz, 1852, p. 57.

1 Brahms: "gäb und nähme"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
2. In the shadow of my tresses
In the shadow of my tresses
My beloved has fallen asleep.
Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!

Carefully I comb my ruffled
Locks, early every day;
Yet for nothing is my trouble,
For the wind makes them dishevelled yet again.
The shadows of my tresses, the whispering of the wind,
Have lulled my darling to sleep.
Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!

I must listen to him complain
That he pines for me so long,
That life is given and taken away from him
By this, my brown cheek,
And he calls me a snake;
Yet he fell asleep by me.
Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!

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 -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


Based onBased on

Translation of title "In dem Schatten meiner Locken" = "In the shadow of my tresses"


Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2019-02-04 14:00:27
Line count: 17
Word count: 110

Translation © by Emily Ezust
3. Seltsam ist Juanas Weise [sung text checked 1 time]
Seltsam ist Juanas Weise. 
Wenn ich steh' in Traurigkeit,
wenn ich seufz' und sage: heut,
"Morgen" spricht sie leise.

Trüb' ist sie, wenn ich mich freue;
lustig singt sie, wenn ich weine;
sag' ich, daß sie hold mir scheine,
spricht sie, daß sie stets mich scheue. 

Solcher Grausamkeit Beweise
brechen mir das Herz in Leid -
wenn ich seufz' und sage: heut,
"Morgen" spricht sie leise.

Heb' ich meine Augenlider,
weiß sie stets den Blick zu senken;
um ihn gleich empor zu lenken,
schlag' ich auch den meinen nieder. 

Wenn ich sie als Heil'ge preise,
nennt sie Dämon mich im Streit,
wenn ich seufz' und sage: heut,
"Morgen" spricht sie leise.

Sieglos heiß' ich auf der Stelle,
rühm' ich meinen Sieg bescheiden,
hoff' ich auf des Himmels Freuden,
prophezeit sie mir die Hölle. 

Ja, so ist ihr Herz von Eise,
säh' sie sterben mich vor Leid,
hörte mich noch seufzen: heut,
"Morgen" spräch' sie leise.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
3. Juana's ways are strange
Juana's ways are strange.
When filled with sadness,
If I sigh and say: "Today,"
"Tomorrow," she says quietly.

Solemn is she when I rejoice;
Lustily she sings while I weep;
If I tell her that she is dear to me,
She protests that she is bashful.

Such signs of cruelty
Rend my heart with grief
If I sigh and say: "Today,"
"Tomorrow," she says quietly.

When I raise my eyes1, 
She always knows to lower hers;
To persuade her glance to rise once more,
I cast mine downward.

If I praise her as being divine,
She quarrels and calls me a demon.
If I sigh and say: "Today,"
"Tomorrow," she says quietly.

She brands me vanquished
If I boast of my triumphs,
When I hope for the joy of heaven,
She prophesizes to me about hell.

Yes, her heart is so icy,
If she saw me perishing for grief,
And heard me thus sigh: "Today,"
"Tomorrow," she'd say quietly.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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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View original text (without footnotes)
Translation of title "Seltsam ist Juanas Weise" = "Juana's ways are strange"
1 literally, "eyelids"


Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-02-04 14:03:26
Line count: 28
Word count: 159

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
4. Treibe nur mit Lieben Spott [sung text checked 1 time]
Treibe nur mit Lieben Spott,
Geliebte mein;
spottet doch der Liebesgott
dereinst auch dein!

Magst an Spotten nach Gefallen
du dich weiden;
von dem Weibe kommt uns Allen
Lust und Leiden. 
Treibe nur mit Lieben Spott,
Geliebte mein;
spottet doch der Liebesgott
dereinst auch dein!

Bist auch jetzt zu stolz zum Minnen,
glaub', o glaube:
Liebe wird dich doch gewinnen
sich zum Raube,
wenn du spottest meiner Not,
Geliebte mein,
spottet doch der Liebesgott
dereinst auch dein!

Wer da lebt in Fleisch, erwäge
alle Stunden:
Amor schläft und plötzlich rege
schlägt er Wunden. 
Treibe nur mit Lieben Spott,
Geliebte mein;
spottet doch der Liebesgott
dereinst auch dein!

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
4. Just keep making fun of love
Just keep making fun of love
my beloved;
The god of love will mock
you too someday!

You may please yourself, making fun as often
as you like;
from women, comes to us
pleasure and pain. 
Just keep making fun of love
my beloved;
The god of love will mock
you too someday!

Are you even now too proud to be wooed,
believe me, oh believe me:
Love will win you
for its prey.
Just as you mock my distress,
my beloved,
the god of love will mock
you too someday!

Whoever lives in the flesh, be aware
constantly:	
Love sleeps and [then] suddenly stirs:
he leaves wounds. 
Just keep making fun of love
my beloved;
The god of love will mock
you too someday!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

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Translation of title "Treibe nur mit Lieben Spott" = "Just keep making fun of love"

Translator's note for line 1-2: "my beloved": often translated “mistress mine” in older texts



Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-02-04 14:04:19
Line count: 28
Word count: 125

Translation © by Laura Prichard
5. Auf dem grünen Balkon [sung text checked 1 time]
Auf dem grünen Balkon mein Mädchen
Schaut nach mir durch's Gitterlein.
Mit den Augen blinzelt sie freundlich,
Mit dem Finger sagt sie mir: Nein!

Glück, das nimmer ohne Wanken
Junger Liebe folgt hienieden,
Hat mir eine Lust beschieden,
Und auch da noch muß ich schwanken.
Schmeicheln hör ich oder Zanken,
Komm ich an ihr Fensterlädchen.
Immer nach dem Brauch der Mädchen
Träuft ins Glück ein bißchen Pein: 
Mit den Augen blinzelt sie freundlich,
Mit dem Finger sagt sie mir: Nein!

Wie sich nur in ihr vertragen
Ihre Kälte, meine Glut?
Weil in ihr mein Himmel ruht,
Seh ich Trüb und Hell sich jagen.
In den Wind gehn meine Klagen,
Daß noch nie die süße Kleine
Ihre Arme schlang um meine;
Doch sie hält mich hin so fein -
Mit den Augen blinzelt sie freundlich,
Mit dem Finger sagt sie mir: Nein!

Authorship

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
5.
 From her green balcony my maiden
 gazes down at me through the trellis.
 With her eyes she blinks kindly,
 but with her finger she says: "No!"
 
 Luck, which never lets
 young love unfold without tangles,
 has allotted me a certain joy,
 but aslo a precarious one.
 I hear either endearments or scolding
 when I come to her window shutters.
 It's always the same with maidens:
 a little pain will mingle with happiness:
 With her eyes she blinks kindly,
 but with her finger she says: "No!"
 
 How can she bear
 her coldness and my ardor?
 While my heaven rests in her,
 I see darkness and light chasing each other.
 The wind bears away my wistful cry
 that my sweet darling has never
 clasped me in her arms.
 Yet she holds me off so subtly -
 With her eyes she blinks kindly,
 but with her finger she says: "No!"

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 -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


Based onBased on

Translation of title "Auf dem grünen Balkon" = "From her green balcony"


Text added to the website: 2003-11-20 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-02-04 14:05:52
Line count: 24
Word count: 148

Translation © by Emily Ezust
6. Wenn du zu den Blumen gehst [sung text checked 1 time]
Wenn du zu den Blumen gehst,
pflücke die schönsten, dich zu schmücken.
Ach, wenn du in dem Gärtlein stehst,
müßtest du dich selber pflücken.

Alle Blumen wissen ja,
daß du hold bist ohne gleichen.
Und die Blume, die dich sah --
Farb' und Schmuck muß ihr erbleichen.

Wenn du zu den Blumen gehst,
pflücke die schönsten, dich zu schmücken. 
Ach, wenn du in dem Gärtlein stehst,
müßtest du dich selber pflücken.

Lieblicher als Rosen sind die Küße,
die dein Mund verschwendet,
weil der Reiz der Blumen endet,
wo dein Liebreiz erst beginnt.

Wenn du zu den Blumen gehst,
pflücke die schönsten, dich zu schmücken. 
Ach, wenn du in dem Gärtlein stehst,
müßtest du dich selber pflücken.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Quand tu vas parmi les fleurs", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
6.
When you wander among the flowers,
You must pluck the most beautiful to adorn yourself.
Ah, thus, when you stand in the tiny garden,
You will have to select yourself!

All of the flowers know it's true,
That you, gentle one, are without peer.
And those flowers that have seen you -- 
Their colors and aromas fade.

When you wander among the flowers,
You must pluck the most beautiful to adorn yourself.
Ah, thus, when you stand in the tiny garden,
You will have to select yourself!

More lovely than roses are the kisses
That your mouth proffers,
For the flowers' attraction ends
Where the allure of your love begins.

When you wander among the flowers,
You must pluck the most beautiful to adorn yourself.
Ah, thus, when you stand in the tiny garden,
You will have to select yourself!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:27
Line count: 20
Word count: 139

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
7. Wer sein holdes Lieb verloren [sung text checked 1 time]
Wer sein holdes Lieb verloren,
weil er Liebe nicht versteht,
besser wär' er nie geboren.
Ich verlor sie dort im Garten,
da sie Rosen brach und Blüten.
Hell auf ihren Wangen glühten
Scham und Lust in holder Zier.
Und von Liebe sprach sie mir;
doch ich größter aller Toren
wußte keine Antwort ihr
wär' ich nimmermehr geboren.

Ich verlor sie dort im Garten,
da sie sprach von Liebesplagen,
denn ich wagte nicht zu sagen,
wie ich ganz ihr eigen bin.
In die Blumen sank sie hin;
doch ich größter aller Toren
zog auch davon nicht Gewinn,
wär' ich nimmermehr geboren!

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Celui qui a perdu son doux amour", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
7.
For him, who lost his sweet love
Because he did not understand Love,
It would be better had he never been born.
I lost her there in the garden,
Where she picked roses and blossoms.
Brightly her cheeks glowed
Graced sweetly with modesty and delight.
And she spoke to me of love;
Yet, at my greatest of all opportunities
I had no answer for her
Would that I had never been born!

I lost her there in the garden,
Where she spoke of the torment of love,
Because I dared say nothing,
Of how I was entirely her own.
Among the flowers, she sank down;
There, at my greatest of all opportunities
I did not claim the victory.
Would that I had never been born!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:27
Line count: 19
Word count: 125

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
8. Ich fuhr über Meer [sung text checked 1 time]
Ich fuhr über [See]1,
ich [zog]2 über Land,
das Glück das fand
ich nimmermehr. 
Die Andern umher 
wie jubelten sie!

[Und]3 ich jubelte nie!
Nach Glück ich jagte,
an Leiden krankt' ich;
als Recht verlangt' ich 
was Liebe versagte.
Ich hofft' und wagte,
kein Glück mir gedieh,
und so schaut' ich es nie.

Trug ohne Klage 
die Leiden, die bösen,
und dacht', es lösen 
sich ab die Tage,
die fröhlichen Tage, 
wie eilen sie!
Ich ereilte sie nie!

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "J'ai sillonné la mer", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Kjerulf: "Meer"
2 Kjerulf: "fuhr"
3 omitted by Wolf.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
8.
I have traveled across the sea,
I have journeyed on land,
Happiness, 
I have never found.
Others around me,
How they rejoiced!

[And] I never rejoiced!
I hunted for happiness,
I suffered with sorrow;
As my right, I demanded
What love had promised.
I hoped and I dared,
No happiness appeared,
And so, I stopped seeking it.

I bore, without complaint,
The grief that angers,
And thought to myself: It makes
The days pass,
The merry days,
How they race by!
I'll never catch up with them!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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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Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:27
Line count: 21
Word count: 87

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
9. Blindes Schauen, dunkle Leuchte [sung text checked 1 time]
Blindes Schauen, dunkle Leuchte,
Ruhm voll Weh, erstorb'nes Leben,
Unheil, das ein Heil mir däuchte, 
Freud'ges Weinen, Lust voll Beben,
Süße Galle, durst'ge Feuchte,
Krieg im Frieden allerwegen,
Liebe, falsch versprachst du Segen,
Da dein Fluch den Schlaf mir scheuchte.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Michael P. Rosewall) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
9.
Blinded sight, dark light,
Painful glory, dying life,
Calamity that seemed to be a saving grace,
Joyful weeping, trembling pleasure,
Sweet gall. Parched moistness,
Peace with conflict, ready anger,
This is love, robed in glory,
Which yet frightens away my sleep.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2011 by Michael P. Rosewall, (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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Text added to the website: 2011-07-06 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:27
Line count: 8
Word count: 41

Translation © by Michael P. Rosewall
10. Eide, so die Liebe schwur [sung text checked 1 time]
Eide, so die Liebe schwur,
schwache Bürgen sind sie nur.
Sitzt die Liebe zu Gericht,
dann, Señor, vergeßet nicht,
daß sie nie nach Recht und Pflicht,
immer nur nach Gunst verfuhr.

Eide, so die Liebe schwur, 
schwache Bürgen sind sie nur.
Werdet dort Betrübte finden,
die mit Schwüren sich verbinden,
die verschwinden mit den Winden,
wie die Blumen auf der Flur.

Eide, so die Liebe schwur, 
schwache Bürgen sind sie nur.
Und als Schreiber an den Schranken
seht ihr nichtige Gedanken.
Weil die leichten Händlein schwanken,
schreibt euch keiner nach der Schnur.

Eide, so die Liebe schwur, 
schwache Bürgen sind sie nur.
Sind die Bürgen gegenwärtig,
allesamt des Spruch's gewärtig,
machen sie das Urteil fertig;
vom Vollziehen keine Spur!
Eide, so die Liebe schwur, 
schwache Bürgen sind sie nur.

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Oaths, like those sworn from love", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
10. Oaths, like those sworn from love
Oaths, like [those] sworn from love,
are only lame assurances.
Love sits in judgment,
so, Sir, don’t forget,
that never acts out of right and duty,
but always from goodwill.

Oaths, like [those] sworn from love,
are only lame assurances.
You will find the afflicted there,
those who bind themselves with oaths,
who disappear with the wind,
like the flowers on the meadow.

Oaths, like [those] sworn from love,
are only lame assurances.
And like writers/clerks in the lists
you see vain thoughts.
Because [your] frail little hands shake,
no one will take you seriously.

Oaths, like [those] sworn from love,
are only lame assurances.
Should such assurances exist,
all await the verdict,
[and] issue judgment;
but provide no hint [of resolution]!
Oaths, like [those] sworn by love,
are only lame assurances.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:36:27
Line count: 26
Word count: 132

Translation © by Laura Prichard
11. Herz, verzage nicht geschwind [sung text checked 1 time]
Herz, verzage nicht geschwind,
weil die Weiber Weiber sind.

Argwohn lehre sie dich kennen,
die sich lichte Sterne nennen
und wie Feuerfunken brennen.
Drum verzage nicht geschwind,
weil die Weiber Weiber sind.

Laß dir nicht den Sinn verwirren,
wenn sie süße Weisen girren;
möchten dich mit Listen kirren,
machen dich mit Ränken blind;
weil die Weiber Weiber sind.

Sind einander stets im Bunde,
fechten tapfer mit dem Munde,
wünschen, was versagt die Stunde,
bauen Schlößer in den Wind;
weil die Weiber Weiber sind.

Und so ist ihr Sinn verschroben,
daß sie, lobst du, was zu loben,
mit dem Mund dagegen toben,
ob ihr Herz auch Gleiches sinnt;
weil die Weiber Weiber sind.

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Heart, don’t despair so quickly", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
11. Heart, don’t despair so quickly
Heart, don’t despair [so] quickly,
because women are women.

Suspicion will teach you to know them,
those [who] call themselves bright stars
and burn [out] like sparks.
Therefore, don’t despair [so] quickly,
because women are women.

Don’t let your senses be confounded,
when they coo sweet melodies;
they want to subdue you with guile,
to make you blind with scheming;	
because women are women.

They are always in league with one another,
fencing boldly with their mouths,
wishing, for what [such a] lesson denies,
building castles in the wind;	
because women are women.

And thus, their minds are misguided:
whatever you praise as worthy,
they will rage against it,
even if their heart agrees with you;
because women are women.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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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Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:38:28
Line count: 22
Word count: 120

Translation © by Laura Prichard
12. Sagt, seid Ihr es, feiner Herr [sung text checked 1 time]
Sagt, seid Ihr es, feiner Herr,
Der da jüngst so hübsch gesprungen
Und gesprungen und gesungen?
 
Seid Ihr der, vor dessen Kehle
Keiner mehr zu Wort gekommen?
Habt die Backen voll genommen,
Sangt gar artig, ohne Fehle.
Ja, Ihr seid's, bei meiner Seele,
Der so mit uns umgesprungen
Und gesprungen und gesungen.
 
Seid Ihr's, der auf Castagnetten
Und Gesang sich nie verstand,
Der die Liebe nie gekannt,
Der da floh vor Weiberketten?
Ja, Ihr seid's; doch möcht' ich wetten,
Manch ein Lieb habt Ihr umschlungen
Und gesprungen und gesungen.
 
Seid Ihr der, der Tanz und Lieder
So herausstrich ohne Maß?
Seid Ihr's, der im Winkel saß
Und nicht regte seine Glieder?
Ja Ihr seid's, ich kenn' Euch wieder,
Der zum Gähnen uns gezwungen
Und gesprungen und gesungen!

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Say, was it you, fine sir", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Dites-moi, beau Monsieur", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Confirmed with Spanisches Liederbuch von Emanuel Geibel und Paul Heyse. Berlin: Verlag von Wilhelm Hertz, 1852, pages 121-122


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
12. Say, was it you, fine sir
Say, was it you, fine sir,
Who recently cavorted about so prettily
And leapt and sang?
 
Were you the one whose busy larynx
Prevented anyone else from uttering a word?
You can certainly jaw away,
You sang quite agreeably, without mistake.
Yes, it was you, upon my soul,
Who dealt thus with us
And leapt and sang.
 
Were you the one who never knew anything
About playing the castanets and about singing,
The one who never knew love,
Who fled before the fetters of women?
Yes, it was you; but I would wager
That many a love you embraced
And leapt and sang.
 
Was it you who gushed forth
Dances and songs without measure?
Was it you who sat in the corner
And did not move his limbs?
Yes, it was you; I recognize you,
You, who compelled us to yawn
And leapt and sang!

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.
    Contact: 

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Text added to the website: 2015-12-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-12-08 22:22:46
Line count: 24
Word count: 145

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
13. Mögen alle bösen Zungen [sung text checked 1 time]
Mögen alle bösen Zungen
Immer sprechen, was beliebt:
Wer mich liebt, den lieb' ich wieder,
Und ich [lieb' und]1 bin geliebt.

Schlimme, schlimme Reden flüstern
eure Zungen schonungslos,
doch ich weiß es, sie sind lüstern
nach unschuld'gem Blute bloß.
Nimmer soll es mich bekümmern,
schwatzt so viel es euch beliebt;
wer mich liebt, den lieb' ich wieder,
und ich [lieb' und]1 bin geliebt.

Zur Verleumdung sich verstehet 
Nur, wem Lieb' und Gunst gebrach,
Weil's ihm selber elend gehet,
Und ihn niemand [minnt]2 und mag.
Darum denk' ich, daß die Liebe, 
Drum sie schmähn, mir Ehre giebt;
Wer mich liebt, den lieb' ich wieder,
Und ich [lieb' und]1 bin geliebt.

Wenn ich wär' aus Stein und Eisen,
Möchtet ihr darauf bestehn,
Daß ich sollte von mir weisen
Liebesgruß und Liebesflehn.
Doch mein Herzlein ist nun leider
Weich, wie's Gott uns [Mädchen]3 giebt;
Wer mich liebt, den lieb' ich wieder,
Und ich [lieb' und]1 bin geliebt.

Authorship

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Ik word bemind", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , no title, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Je suis aimée", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • SPA Spanish (Español) (Abel Alamillo Fernández) , "Zungen Dejad que las malas lenguas", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Schumann: "weiss, ich"
2 Schumann: "nimmt"
3 Schumann: "Menschen"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
13.
May all evil tongues
Speak ever what they wish:
Whoever loves me, I love in return,
And I [love and]1 am loved.
 
Evil, evil gossip is mercilessly
Whispered by your tongues,
But I know that they are only
Craving the blood of the guiltless.
It shall never trouble me,
Gossip as much as you please;
Whoever loves me, I love in return,
And I [love and]1 am loved.
 
Slander is understood [and practised]
Only by those who are lacking in love and favour,
Because they themselves are miserable,
And no one [loves]2 or likes them.
Therefore I think that the love
For which they revile [me], gives me honour;
Whoever loves me, I love in return,
And I [love and]1 am loved.
 
If I were made of stone and iron,
You could insist
That I should spurn
Love’s greetings and pleadings.
But my heart is unfortunately
Soft, the way God gives them to us [maidens]3;
Whoever loves me, I love in return,
And I [love and]1 am loved.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 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: 

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View original text (without footnotes)
Translated titles:
"Böse Zungen" = "Evil tongues"
"Mögen alle bösen Zungen" = "May all evil tongues"
"Ich bin geliebt" = "I am loved"
1 Schumann: "know that I"
2 Schumann: "chooses"
3 Schumann: "people"


Text added to the website: 2015-12-11 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-12-11 17:03:00
Line count: 28
Word count: 168

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
14. Köpfchen, Köpfchen, nicht gewimmert [sung text checked 1 time]
Köpfchen, Köpfchen, nicht gewimmert,
halt dich wacker, halt dich munter,
stütz zwei gute Säulchen unter,
heilsam aus Geduld gezimmert!
Hoffnung schimmert,
wie sich's auch verschlimmert
und dich kümmert.
Mußt mit Grämen 
dir nichts zu Herzen nehmen,
ja kein Märchen,
daß zu Berg dir stehn die Härchen;
da sei Gott davor
und der Riese Christophor!

Authorship

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
14.
Noggin, noggin, don’t whimper,
stay brave, stay sprightly,
support two good pillars under you,
timbered wholly of patience!
Hope shimmers,
however aggravated you are
and you suffer.
You must not greviously	 
take anything to heart,
especially not a failry tale
that stands your hair on end;
God forbid that
and St. Christopher [forbid it]!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

Based onBased on

Translation of title "Preciosa's Sprüchlein gegen Kopfweh" = "Preciosa's proverb against headaches"
Translator's notes:
Line 3: "pillars" - or legs.
Line 13: St. Christopher is the patron saint of travelers.


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:40:41
Line count: 13
Word count: 54

Translation © by Laura Prichard
15. Sagt ihm, daß er zu mir komme [sung text checked 1 time]
Sagt ihm, daß er zu mir komme,
Denn je mehr sie mich drum schelten,
Ach, je mehr wächst meine Glut!

O zum Wanken
Bringt die Liebe nichts auf Erden;
Durch ihr Zanken
Wird sie nur gedoppelt werden. 
Sie gefährden
Mag nicht ihrer Neider Wut;
Denn je mehr sie mich drum schelten,
Ach, je mehr wächst meine Glut!

Eingeschlossen
Haben sie mich lange Tage;
Unverdrossen
Mich gestraft mit schlimmer Plage;
Doch ich trage
Jede Pein mit Liebesmut,
[Und]1 je mehr sie mich drum schelten,
Ach, je mehr wächst meine Glut!

Meine Peiniger
Sagen oft, ich soll dich lassen,
Doch nur einiger
Woll'n wir uns ins Herze fassen. 
Muß ich drum erblassen,
Tod um Liebe lieblich tut,
Und je mehr sie mich drum schelten,
Ach, je mehr wächst meine Glut!

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Malcolm Wren) , copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Wolf: "Denn"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
15. Tell him to come to me
Tell him to come to me
Because the more they tell me off about it
The hotter my passion becomes!

Oh, it cannot be shaken;
Nothing on earth can shake love.
Through their picking rows about it
They only manage to double it.
It cannot be put at risk
By their envious rage.
Because the more they tell me off about it
The hotter my passion becomes!

Locked up!
They have locked me up for days on end.
They have indefatigably
Punished me with terrible torments,
But I bear
Each pain with the courage of love.
Because the more they tell me off about it
The hotter my passion becomes!

My torturers
Often tell me to leave you,
But that makes us even more united
In our desire to grasp each other's heart.
So if I have to fade away
Death rewards love with love,
And the more they tell me off about it
The hotter my passion becomes!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 by Malcolm Wren, (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: 

Based onBased on

Translations of title(s):
"O zum Wanken bringt die Liebe" = "Oh, love cannot be shaken"
"Sagt ihm, daß er zu mir komme" = "Tell him to come to me"



Text added to the website: 2018-04-23 00:00:00
Last modified: 2018-08-14 12:33:06
Line count: 27
Word count: 159

Translation © by Malcolm Wren
16. Bitt' ihn, o Mutter, bitte den Knaben [sung text checked 1 time]
Bitt' ihn, o Mutter,
bitte den Knaben,
nicht mehr zu zielen,
weil er mich tödtet.
Mutter, o Mutter,
die launische Liebe
höhnt und versöhnt mich,
flieht mich und zieht mich. 
Ich sah zwei Augen
am letzten Sonntag,
Wunder des Himmels,
Unheil der Erde. 
Was man sagt, o Mutter,
von Basilisken,
erfuhr mein Herze, [da]1
ich sie sah. 
Bitt' ihn, o Mutter,
bitte den Knaben,
nicht mehr zu zielen,
weil er mich tödtet.

Authorship

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See other settings of this text.

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
Note: not all of the original text was translated to German by Heyse.
1 Weismann: "seit"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
16.
Ask him, mother,
ask the boy,
to stop aiming [his arrows at me]
because it’s killing me.	
Mother, oh mother,
whimsical love
mocks and placates me,
escapes me and beckons me.
I saw two eyes
last Sunday,
wonder of the heavens,
mischief of earth.
What one says, oh mother,
about basilisks,
my heart discovered, when
I saw them.
Ask him, mother,
ask the boy,
to stop aiming [his arrows at me],
because it’s killing me.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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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Translator's note for line 2: "the boy", i.e., Cupid.


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:42:39
Line count: 20
Word count: 75

Translation © by Laura Prichard
17. Liebe mir im Busen [sung text checked 1 time]
Liebe mir im Busen 
Zündet einen Brand.
Wasser, liebe Mutter, 
Eh das Herz verbrannt!

Nicht das blinde Kind 
Straft für meine Fehle;
Hat zuerst die Seele 
Mir gekühlt so lind.
Dann entflammt's geschwind 
Ach, mein Unverstand;
Wasser, liebe Mutter, 
Eh das Herz verbrannt!

Ach! wo ist die Flut, 
Die dem Feuer wehre? 
Für so große Glut 
Sind zu arm die Meere.
Weil es wohl mir tut 
Wein' ich unverwandt;
Wasser, liebe Mutter, 
Eh das Herz verbrannt!

Authorship

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Love in my breast ", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Note: this is thought to be an original poem by Heyse, not a translation like the others in the collection.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
17. Love in my breast
Love in my breast 
Ignites a conflagration.
Water, dear mother, 
ah, my heart’s scorched!

Don’t punish the blind child 
for my mistakes;
At first, [my] soul
Cooled so gently.
Then flared quickly, 
Ah, my confusion;
Water, dear mother, 
ah, my heart’s scorched!

Ah! where is the flood, 
that [could] extinguish the fire? 
For such glowing embers, 
the seas are too feeble.
Because it makes me feel better 
I cry incessantly;
Water, dear mother 
ah, my heart’s scorched!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

Based on

Translator's note for line 2-1: "the blind child" is Cupid.


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:41:36
Line count: 20
Word count: 77

Translation © by Laura Prichard
18. Schmerzliche Wonnen und wonnige Schmerzen [sung text checked 1 time]
Schmerzliche Wonnen und wonnige Schmerzen,
Wasser im Auge und Feuer im Herzen,
Stolz auf den Lippen und Seufzer im Sinne,
Honig und Galle zugleich ist die Minne.

Oft, wenn ein Seelchen vom Leibe geschieden,
möcht' es Sankt Michael tragen in Frieden.
Aber der Dämon auch möcht es verschlingen;
Keiner will weichen, da geht es ans Ringen.

Seelchen, gequältes, in ängstlichem Wogen
fühlst du dich hier hin und dort hin gezogen,
aufwärts und abwärts. In solches Getriebe
stürzt zwischen Himmel und Höll' uns die Liebe.

Mütterchen, ach, und mit siebenzehn Jahren
hab ich dies Hangen und Bangen erfahren,
Hab's dann verschworen mit Tränen der Reue;
ach, und schon lieb' ich, schon lieb' ich auf's neue.

Authorship

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Painful delight and delightful pain", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Note: this is an original poem and not a translation.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
18. Painful delight and delightful pain
Painful delight and delightful pain,
Water in [my] eyes and fire in [my] heart,
Pride on [my] lips and sighs in [my] senses,
Just like honey and gall is love.

Often, when a soul departs its body,
Saint Michael would like to carry [it] to peace.
But the Devil would also like to devour it;
Neither wants to yield, on they fight.

Soul, tortured, in fearful heaving,
you feel drawn here and there,
upward and downward. In such a whirl
love plunges between heaven and hell.

Dear Mother, ah, already at seventeen years
I have felt this proclivity and fear.
So I’ve foresworn it with tears of repentance
ah, but already I’m in love again, already I love anew.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:43:19
Line count: 16
Word count: 119

Translation © by Laura Prichard
19. Trau nicht der Liebe [sung text checked 2 times]
Trau nicht der Liebe,
mein Liebster, gib Acht!
Sie macht dich noch weinen,
wo heut du gelacht.

Und siehst du nicht schwinden
des Mondes Gestalt?
Das Glück hat nicht minder
nur wankenden Halt. 
Dann rächt es sich bald;
und Liebe, gieb Acht!
Sie macht dich noch weinen,
wo heut du gelacht.

Drum hüte dich fein
vor törigem Stolze!
Wohl singen im Mai'n
die Grillchen im Holze;
dann schlafen sie ein,
und Liebe, gieb Acht!
sie macht dich noch weinen,
wo heut du gelacht.

Wo schweifst du nur hin?
Laß Rat dir erteilen:
Das Kind mit den Pfeilen
hat Possen im Sinn. 
Die Tage, die eilen
und Liebe, gieb Acht!
Sie macht dich noch weinen,
wo heut du gelacht.

Nicht immer ist's helle,
nicht immer ist's dunkel,
der Freude Gefunkel
erbleicht so schnelle. 
Ein falscher Geselle
ist Amor, gieb Acht!
Er macht dich noch weinen,
wo heut du gelacht.

Authorship

Based on

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Malcolm Wren) , copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
19. Do not trust love,
Do not trust love,
My dearest, take care!
In future it will make you cry 
Where you laughed today.

Can't you see it disappearing,
The shape of the moon?
Happiness makes a similarly brief
Transcient stop.
It then soon takes revenge,
And as for love, watch out!
In future it will make you cry 
Where you laughed today.

So just protect yourself
Against foolish pride!
They sing nicely in Maytime,
Those crickets in the wood,
Then they fall asleep,
And as for love, watch out!
In future it will make you cry 
Where you laughed today.

Where are you wandering off to now?
Take this advice:
The boy with the arrows
Is minded to play tricks.
Days hurry past,
And as for love, watch out!
In future it will make you cry 
Where you laughed today.

It's not always bright,
It's not always dark,
The gleam of love
Goes pale so quickly!
He is an unreliable companion,
That Cupid, watch out!
In future he will make you cry 
Where you laughed today.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 by Malcolm Wren, (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: 

Based onBased on

Translations of title(s):
"Liebster, gieb Acht!" = "My dearest, take care!"
"Trau nicht der Liebe" = "Do not trust love,"



Text added to the website: 2018-04-23 00:00:00
Last modified: 2018-04-23 16:01:12
Line count: 36
Word count: 172

Translation © by Malcolm Wren
20. Ach, im Maien war's, im Maien [sung text checked 1 time]
Ach, im Maien war's, im Maien,
wo die warmen Lüfte wehen,
wo verliebte Leute pflegen
ihren Liebchen nachzugehn.

Ich allein, ich armer Trauriger,
lieg' im Kerker so verschmachtet,
und ich seh' nicht, wann es taget,
und ich weiß nicht, wann es nachtet.

Nur an einem Vöglein merkt' ich's,
das da drauß im Maien sang;
das hat mir ein Schütz getödtet
geb' ihm Gott den schlimmsten Dank!

Authorship

Based on

Go to the single-text view

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Era di maggio", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
20.
Ah, it was in May, in May,
when the warm breezes blow,
where those in love desire
to go to their loves.

I alone, I poor and pathetic,
lie in prison so faint,
and I don’t see day dawning,
and I don’t know when night falls.

Only by [the call of] a little bird would I know the difference,
that sang outside [each] May;
[but] it was killed by a shot
God give it thanks!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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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Translator's note for line 3-4: literally, "God give him the worst possible thanks," an ironic opposite to the typical "Gott sei dank," or "Thank God."


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:32:38
Line count: 12
Word count: 75

Translation © by Laura Prichard
21. Alle gingen, Herz, zur Ruh [sung text checked 1 time]
Alle gingen, Herz, zur Ruh,
alle schlafen, nur nicht du.
Denn der hoffnungslose Kummer
scheucht von deinem Bett den Schlummer,
und dein Sinnen schweift in stummer 
Sorge seiner Liebe zu.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "In de nacht", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , no title, copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Trova ogni cosa, mio cuore, riposo", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • POR Portuguese (Português) (Ana Vargas) , "Todos dormem, coração", copyright © 2006, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: John Glenn Paton [Guest Editor]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
21.
Everyone has gone, Heart, to their rest;
Everyone sleeps but you,
For affliction without hope
Makes slumber stay away from your bed,
And your thoughts stray in silent
Grief to their Love.

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 -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


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Text added to the website: 2015-01-20 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-03-20 17:58:44
Line count: 6
Word count: 32

Translation © by Emily Ezust
22. Dereinst, Gedanke mein [sung text checked 1 time]
Dereinst, dereinst,
[Gedanke]1 mein,
Wirst ruhig sein.

Läßt Liebesglut
Dich still nicht werden,
In kühler Erden,
Da schläfst du gut,
[Dort ohne Lieb']2
und ohne Pein
Wirst ruhig sein.

Was du im Leben
Nicht hast gefunden,
Wenn es entschwunden,
[Wird's dir]3 gegeben,
Dann ohne Wunden
[Und ohne Pein]2
Wirst ruhig sein.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Liefdesverdriet", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (David K. Smythe) , "One day, o my mind", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Chagrin d'amour", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • POR Portuguese (Português) (Margarida Moreno) , "Desgosto de amor", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Schumann: "O Gedanke"
2 omitted by Schumann
3 Schumann, Wolf: "Wird dir's

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
22. One day, o my mind
One day, one day, 
O my mind,
You will be at peace.

Love's ardour 
will not leave you alone,
In the cool earth, 
There you sleep well

and without suffering;
You will be at peace:

What you have not 
found in life,
When it has vanished,
Will be given to you;
Then without wounds
and without pain
you will be at peace.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by David K. Smythe, (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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Text added to the website: 2003-11-07 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-07-10 16:59:58
Line count: 16
Word count: 62

Translation © by David K. Smythe
23. Tief im Herzen trag' ich Pein [sung text checked 1 time]
Tief im Herzen trag' ich Pein,
Muß nach außen stille sein.
 
Den geliebten Schmerz verhehle
Tief ich vor der Welt Gesicht;
Und es fühlt ihn nur die Seele,
Denn der Leib verdient ihn nicht.
Wie der Funke frei und licht
Sich verbirgt im Kieselstein,
Trag' ich innen tief die Pein.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Diep van binnen lijd ik pijn", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Deep within my heart I harbour anguish", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "La souffrance est au fond de mon cœur", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Confirmed with Volkslieder und Romanzen der Spanier im Versmasse des Originals verdeutscht durch Emanuel Geibel, Berlin: Verlag von Alexander Duncker, 1843, page 6


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
23. Deep within my heart I harbour anguish
Deep within my heart I harbour anguish,
Outwardly I must be silent.
 
I conceal the beloved pain
Assiduously from the face of the world;
And only the soul feels it,
For the body does not deserve it.
As the spark, free and bright,
Conceals itself within the pebble,
I harbour anguish deep within myself.

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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Text added to the website: 2015-11-26 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-11-26 08:19:23
Line count: 9
Word count: 54

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
24. Komm, o Tod, von Nacht umgeben [sung text checked 1 time]
Komm, o Tod, von Nacht umgeben,
leise komm zu mir gegangen,
daß die Lust, dich zu umfangen,
nicht zurück mich ruf' ins Leben.

Komm, so wie der Blitz uns rühret,
den der Donner nicht verkündet,
bis er plötzlich sich entzündet
und den Schlag gedoppelt führet.

Also seist du mir gegeben,
plötzlich stillend mein Verlangen,
daß die Lust, dich zu umfangen,
nicht zurück mich ruf' ins Leben.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "Come, O death, surrounded by night", copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Viens, ô mort, entourée de la nuit", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
24. Come, O death, surrounded by night
Come, O death, surrounded by night,
Come gently to me,
So that the desire to embrace you
Will not call me back to life.

Come, just as we might be struck by lightning
That thunder does not announce,
That ignites suddenly 
And deals its blow with doubled force.

So may you be granted me,
Abruptly silencing my yearning,
So that the desire to embrace you
Will not call me back to life.

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 -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


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Text added to the website: 2015-01-20 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-03-20 17:51:49
Line count: 12
Word count: 72

Translation © by Emily Ezust
25. Ob auch finstere Blicke glitten [sung text checked 1 time]
Ob auch finstre Blicke glitten,
Schöner Augenstern, aus dir,
Wird mir doch nicht abgestritten,
Daß du hast geblickt nach mir.
 
Wie sich auch der Strahl bemühte,
Zu verwunden meine Brust,
Giebt's ein Leiden, das die Lust,
Dich zu schaun, nicht reich vergüte?
Und so tödtlich mein Gemüthe
Unter deinem Zorn gelitten,
Wird mir doch nicht abgestritten,
Daß du hast geblickt nach mir.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , no title, copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Note: this is the entire Heyse text; not all of the original text appears to have been translated.

Confirmed with Spanisches Liederbuch von Emanuel Geibel und Paul Heyse. Berlin: Verlag von Wilhelm Hertz, 1852, page 72


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
25. Even though darksome glances slip
Even though darksome glances slip,
Shining star, from you,
Yet no-one can deny
That you looked at me.
 
However the beam of your gaze may have endeavoured
To wound my breast,
Is there a suffering for which the joy
Of seeing you does not provide rich recompense?
And as mortally as my spirit
Suffered under your wrath,
Yet no-one can deny
That you looked at me.

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:
"Ob auch finstere Blicke glitten" = "Even though darksome glances slip"
"Aus dem Spanischen" = "From the Spanish"


Text added to the website: 2015-12-13 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-12-13 22:21:40
Line count: 12
Word count: 66

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
26. Bedeckt mich mit Blumen [sung text checked 1 time]
Bedeckt mich mit Blumen,
Ich sterbe vor Liebe.
Daß die Luft mit leisem Wehen
nicht den süßen Duft [mir]1 entführe,
    Bedeckt mich!
[Ist ja alles doch dasselbe, 
Liebesodem oder Düfte 
    Von Blumen.]2
Von Jasmin und weißen Lilien
sollt ihr hier mein Grab bereiten,
    Ich sterbe. 
Und befragt ihr mich: Woran?
sag' ich: Unter süßen Qualen
    Vor Liebe.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Duet 'Bedek mij met bloemen'", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , no title, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English [singable] (Constance Bache) , "O'erstrew me with flowers"
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Couvre moi de fleurs, je meurs", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Ricopritemi di fiori", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • SPA Spanish (Español) (Abel Alamillo Fernández) , "Cubridme con flores", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 omitted by Rubinstein
2 omitted by Schumann.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
26. Cover me with flowers
Cover me with flowers;
I am dying of love.
[Cover me] so that the breeze with its light wafting
May not carry the sweet scent away [from me,]2
    Cover me!
[For it is all the same,
The breath of love or scents
    Of flowers.]2
Of jasmine and white lilies
You are to prepare my grave here;
    I am dying.
And if you ask me: Of what?
I say: In sweet agony
    Of love.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 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: 

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View original text (without footnotes)

Translated titles:
"Bedeckt mich mit Blumen" = "Cover me with flowers"
"Ich sterbe vor Liebe" = "I am dying of love"
"Duett" = "Duet"
"Liebestod" = "Love death"

1 omitted by Rubinstein
2 omitted by Schumann.


Text added to the website: 2016-01-04 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-01-04 12:49:21
Line count: 14
Word count: 73

Translation © by Sharon Krebs
27. Und schläfst du, mein Mädchen [sung text checked 1 time]
Und schläfst du, mein Mädchen,
Auf, öffne du mir;
Denn die Stund' ist gekommen,
Da wir wandern von hier.

Und bist ohne Sohlen,
Leg' keine dir an;
Durch reisende Wasser
Geht unsere Bahn.

Durch die tief tiefen Wasser
Des Guadalquivir;
Denn die Stund' ist gekommen,
Da wir wandern von hier.1

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Intermezzo", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (David K. Smythe) , "And are you sleeping, my girl?", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • POR Portuguese (Português) (Margarida Moreno) , "Intermezzo", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Schumann and Wolf here repeat the line "Auf, öffne du mir!"

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
27. And are you sleeping, my girl?
And are you sleeping, my girl?
Up! Open the door for me,
For the hour has come,
When we get away from here.

And you are without shoes,
Put nothing on,
Through raging water
Goes our path.

Through the deep, deep water
Of the Guadalquivir;
For the hour has come,
When we get away from here.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by David K. Smythe, (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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Text added to the website: 2003-11-19 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:00
Line count: 12
Word count: 56

Translation © by David K. Smythe
28. Sie blasen zum Abmarsch [sung text checked 1 time]
Sie blasen zum Abmarsch,
Lieb Mütterlein.
Mein Liebster muß scheiden
Und läßt mich allein!

Am Himmel die Sterne
Sind kaum noch geflohn,
Da feuert von ferne
Das Fußvolk schon.
Kaum hört er den Ton,
Sein Ränzelein schnürt er,
Von hinnen marschiert er,
Mein Herz hinterdrein.
Mein Liebster muß scheiden
Und läßt mich allein!

Mir ist wie dem Tag,
Dem die Sonne geschwunden.
Mein Trauern nicht mag
So balde gesunden.
Nach nichts ich frag,
Keine Lust mehr heg ich,
Nur Zwiesprach pfleg ich
Mit meiner Pein--
Mein Liebster muß scheiden
Und läßt mich allein!

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Lawrence Snyder) (Rebecca Plack) , "They're sounding the rally", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
28. They're sounding the rally
They're sounding the rally,
Dear Mother.
My beloved must depart,
And leaves me alone!

From the heavens the stars
Have hardly yet flown,
But already firing in the distance
Is the infantry.
Scarcely does he hear the sound,
Ere he fastens his knapsack,
He marches away,
With my heart following after.
My beloved must depart,
And leaves me alone!

To me it is as the day
When the sun has disappeared.
My sorrow will not
Be so quickly healed.
I ask for nothing,
I take pleasure no longer,
I keep conversation only
With my pain--
My beloved must depart,
And leaves me alone!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Lawrence Snyder and Rebecca Plack, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2003-11-04 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:58
Line count: 24
Word count: 103

Translation © by Lawrence Snyder, Rebecca Plack
29. Weint nicht, ihr Äuglein [sung text checked 1 time]
Weint nicht, ihr Äuglein!
Wie kann so trübe 
weinen vor Eifersucht,
wer tödtet durch Liebe?

Wer selbst Tod bringt,
der sollt' ihn ersehnen?
Sein Lächeln bezwingt
was trotzt seinen Tränen.

Weint nicht, ihr Äuglein!
Wie kann so trübe 
weinen vor Eifersucht,
wer tödtet durch Liebe?

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Malcolm Wren) , "Do not cry, little eyes!", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Ne pleurez pas, petits yeux", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
29. Do not cry, little eyes!
Do not cry, little eyes!
How can anyone so gloomily
Cry with jealousy
Who kills with love?

Anyone who brings death himself,
Should he long for it?
His smile wins over
Anyone that defies his tears.

Do not cry, little eyes!
How can anyone so gloomily
Cry with jealousy
Who kills with love?

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 by Malcolm Wren, (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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Text added to the website: 2018-04-23 00:00:00
Last modified: 2018-04-23 16:14:15
Line count: 12
Word count: 53

Translation © by Malcolm Wren
30. Wer tat deinem Füßlein weh? [sung text checked 1 time]
»Wer tat deinem Füßlein weh?
La Marioneta,
Deiner Ferse weiß wie Schnee?
La Marion.«

Sag Euch an, was krank mich macht,
Will kein Wörtlein Euch verschweigen:
Ging zum Rosenbusch zur Nacht,
Brach ein Röslein von den Zweigen;
Trat auf einen Dorn im Gang,
La Marioneta,
Der mir bis ins Herze drang,
La Marion.

Sag Euch alle meine Pein,
Freund, und will Euch nicht berücken:
Ging in einem Wald allein,
Eine Lilie mir zu pflücken;
Traf ein Stachel scharf mich dort,
La Marioneta,
War ein süßes Liebeswort,
La Marion.

Sag Euch mit Aufrichtigkeit
Meine Krankheit, meine Wunde:
In den Garten ging ich heut,
Wo die schönste Nelke stunde;
Hat ein Span mich dort verletzt,
La Marioneta,
Blutet fort und fort bis jetzt,
La Marion.

»Schöne Dame, wenn Ihr wollt,
Bin ein Wundarzt guter Weise,
Will die Wund' Euch stillen leise,
Daß Ihr's kaum gewahren sollt.
Bald sollt Ihr genesen Sein,
La Marioneta,
Bald geheilt von aller Pein,
La Marion.«

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Lawrence Snyder) (Rebecca Plack) , "Who hurt your little foot?", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Qui a fait mal à ton petit pied ?", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
30. Who hurt your little foot?
Who hurt your little foot?
La Marioneta,
Your heel white as snow?
La Marion."

I'll tell you what hurts me,
Withholding not one little word:
I went at night to the rosebush,
Broke off a little rose from a twig,
And in going, stepped on a thorn,
La Marioneta
Which pierced me to the heart,
La Marion.

I'll tell you all my pain,
Friend, and won't beguile you:
I wandered in the wood alone,
To pluck myself a lily;
A sharp spine pricked me there,
La Marioneta,
It was a sweet word of love,
La Marion.

I'll tell you in all sincerity
Of my illness, my wounds:
I went into the garden today,
Where the most beautiful carnation stood;
There a splinter injured me,
La Marioneta,
It bled freely, and bleeds still now,
La Marion.

Lovely maiden, if you wish,
I'm quite a good doctor,
And will gently soothe your wound,
So that you are scarcely aware of it,
Soon will you be recovered,
La Marioneta
Soon healed of all pain,
La Marion.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Lawrence Snyder and Rebecca Plack, (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: 

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Text added to the website: 2003-11-20 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:00
Line count: 36
Word count: 173

Translation © by Lawrence Snyder, Rebecca Plack
31. Deine Mutter, süßes Kind [sung text checked 1 time]
Deine Mutter, süßes Kind,
da sie in den Weh'n gelegen,
brausen hörte sie den Wind.
Und so hat sie dich geboren 
mit dem falschen wind'gen Sinn.
Hast du heut ein Herz erkoren,
wirfst es morgen treulos hin.
Doch den zähl' ich zu den Toren,
der dich schmäht der Untreu wegen:
Dein Geschick war dir entgegen;
denn die Mutter, süßes Kind,
da sie in den Weh'n gelegen,
brausen hörte sie den Wind.

Authorship

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Note: this is an original poem by Heyse, written under the pseudonym of Don Luis el Chico.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
31.
Your mother, sweet child,
when she was in labor,
heard the roaring of the wind.
And so she bore you
With false understanding of [the way] the wind [blows].
If you had chosen a heart today,
[you would] discard it tomorrow as unfaithful.
But I count as one of the [closed] doors,
that you revile as unfaithful:
Your fate was against you;
since your mother, sweet child,
when she was in labor,
heard the roaring of the wind.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

Based on


Text added to the website: 2016-06-21 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-06-21 17:54:58
Line count: 13
Word count: 78

Translation © by Laura Prichard
32. Da nur Leid und Leidenschaft [sung text checked 1 time]
Da nur Leid und Leidenschaft
mich bestürmt in deiner Haft,
biet' ich nun mein Herz zu Kauf. 
Sagt, hat einer Lust darauf?

Soll ich sagen, wie ich's schätze,
sind drei Batzen nicht zu viel. 
Nimmer war's des Windes Spiel,
eigensinnig blieb's im Netze. 

Aber weil mich drängt die Not
biet' ich nun mein Herz zu Kauf,
schlag' es los zum Meistgebot -
sagt, hat einer Lust darauf?

Täglich kränkt es mich im Stillen
und erfreut mich nimmermehr. 
Nun wer bietet? wer giebt mehr?
Fort mit ihm und seinen Grillen!

Daß sie schlimm sind, leuchtet ein,
biet' ich doch mein Herz zu Kauf. 
Wär es froh, behielt' ich's fein -
sagt, hat einer Lust darauf?

Kauft ihr's, leb' ich ohne Grämen. 
Mag es haben, wenn's beliebt!
Nun wer kauft? wer will es nehmen?
Sag' ein Jeder, was er giebt. 

Noch einmal vorm Hammerschlag
biet' ich jetzt mein Herz zu Kauf,
daß man sich entscheiden mag -
sagt, hat einer Lust darauf?

Nun zum ersten und zum zweiten
und beim dritten schlag' ich's zu!
Gut denn! Mag dir's Glück bereiten;
nimm es, meine Liebste du!

Brenn' ihm mit dem glüh'nden Erz
gleich das Sklavenzeichen auf;
denn ich schenke dir mein Herz,
hast du auch nicht Lust zum Kauf.

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Since suffering and passion are all", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
32. Since suffering and passion are all
Since suffering and passion are all
I feel in your presence,
I’m offering my heart for sale. 
Tell me, does [anyone] want it?

Should I tell [you] how much I treasure it:
three coins wouldn’t be too much. 			
Is was never played with by the wind [like a kite],
stubbornly it remains tangled up. 

But because distress urges me [to do it]
I’m now offering my heart for sale,
I offer it to the highest bidder -
Tell me, does [anyone] want it?

Daily, it pains me silently
and delights me no more. 
So, who’s bidding? who’ll give more?
Away with it and its moods!

[My moods] are bad, it’s clear,
I’m really offering my heart for sale. 
Were it happy, I’d happily keep it -
Tell me, does [anyone] want it?

[If you] buy it, I’ll live without sorrow. 
Whoever wants it can have it!
So who will buy? who wants to take it?
Let everyone say what he’d pay. 

Once more, before the [last] gavel stroke,
I’m now offering my heart for sale,
So that one can decide -
Tell me, does [anyone] want it?

First the first knock [of the gavel], then the second,
and at the third, I give it to you!
Good then! May it bring you happiness;
take it, my dearest!

Brand it with glowing metal
like the mark of a slave;
[in this way] I give you my heart,
[even] if you have no desire to buy [it].

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

Based onBased on

Translator's note for line 2-2: The Reichs-Gulden were the main currency of southern Germany and the Holy Roman Empire in the 17th-18th centuries; one Gulden could be divided into 15 Batzen or 240 Pfennigs.


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:34:11
Line count: 36
Word count: 245

Translation © by Laura Prichard
33. Wehe der, die mir verstrickte [sung text checked 1 time]
Wehe der, die mir verstrickte
meinen Geliebten!
Wehe der, die ihn verstrickte!

Ach, der Erste, den ich liebte,
ward gefangen in Sevilla. 
Mein Vielgeliebter,
Wehe der, die ihn verstrickte!

Ward gefangen in Sevilla
mit der Fessel meiner Locken. 
Mein Vielgeliebter,
Wehe der, wehe der, die ihn verstrickte!

Authorship

Based on

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "Woe to her, who ensnared", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Paul Heyse (1830 - 1914)
33. Woe to her, who ensnared
Woe to her, who ensnared
my beloved!
Woe to her, who ensnared him!

Ah, that first one, who I loved,
was captured in Seville. 
My best beloved,
Woe to her who ensnared him!

He was captured in Seville
with the chains of my locks. 
My best beloved,
Woe to her, woe to her, who ensnared him!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard, (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: 

Based onBased on


Text added to the website: 2016-02-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2016-02-08 10:34:50
Line count: 11
Word count: 56

Translation © by Laura Prichard
34. Geh, Geliebter, geh jetzt! [sung text checked 1 time]
Geh, Geliebter, geh jetzt!
Sieh, der Morgen dämmert.

Leute gehen schon durch die Gasse,
Und der Markt wird so belebt,
Daß der Morgen wohl, der blasse,
Schon die weißen Flügel hebt.
Und vor unsern Nachbarn bin ich
Bange, daß du Anstoß giebst:
Denn sie wissen nicht, wie innig
Ich dich lieb' und du mich liebst.

Drum, Geliebter, geh jetzt!
Sieh, der Morgen dämmert.

Wenn die Sonn' am Himmel scheinend
Scheucht vom Feld die Perlen klar,
Muß auch ich die Perle weinend
Lassen, die mein Reichthum war.
Was als Tag den Andern funkelt,
Meinen Augen dünkt es Nacht,
Da die Trennung bang mir dunkelt,
Wenn das Morgenroth erwacht.

Geh, Geliebter, geh jetzt!
Sieh, der Morgen dämmert.

[ ... ]
Fliehe denn aus meinen Armen! Denn versäumest du die Zeit, Möchten für ein kurz Erwarmen Wir ertauschen langes Leid. Ist in Fegerfeuersqualen Doch ein Tag schon auszustehn, Wenn die Hoffnung fern in Strahlen Läßt des Himmels Glorie sehn. Drum, Geliebter, geh jetzt! Sieh, der Morgen dämmert.

Authorship

Based on

See other settings of this text.

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Lawrence Snyder) (Rebecca Plack) , "Go, my lover, go now!", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Va, mon amour, va maintenant", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884)
34. Go, my lover, go now!
Go, my lover, go now!
See, morning dawns.

People are already passing through the alleys,
And the market is becoming so lively,
That morning itself, pale morn,
Already raises its white wings.
And I'm afraid of our neighbors,
That you'll shock them;
For they don't know how deeply
I love you and you love me.

So, my lover, go now,
See, morning dawns.

When the sun, shining in the heavens,
Frightens the clear pearls from the field,
Must I also, weeping, surrender
The pearl, which was my realm?
What sparkles as day to others
Seems to my eyes as night,
For the separation darkens upon me, anxious,
When the red of morning awakes.

Go, my lover, go now!
See, morning dawns.

[ ... ]

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Lawrence Snyder and Rebecca Plack, (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: 

Based onBased on


Text added to the website: 2003-11-08 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-11-07 15:20:24
Line count: 32
Word count: 169

Translation © by Lawrence Snyder, Rebecca Plack