Um's offne Grab stellt sich der Kreis, 
Ein junges Leben liegt im Schreine;
Kein Auge, das nicht brennend heiß 
Des Scheidens helle Zähren weine!

Und Einer aus der dichten Schaar 
Bückt plötzlich hastig sich zur Erde, 
Ein starker Mann mit dunkelm Haar, 
Gar tiefes Weh in der Geberde.  

Was wühlt im feuchten Modergrund 
Die Hand mit zitterndem Verlangen?
Von Gold ist's wohl ein reicher Fund, 
[Daran die]1 Augen gierig hangen? --

[Ein werthlos Ringlein]2 hebt er auf, 
Tief seufzend, aus der Todtenasche, 
-- Zwei große Thränen fallen drauf --
Und [birgt]3 ihn sorgsam in der Tasche. 

[Und zu dem Nachbarn]4 flüstert er, 
Der [stumm nach ihm die]5 Blicke lenket:
"Hier -- dreißig Jahre sind es her --
[Ward meine Mutter eingesenket!]6"

View text without footnotes

Confirmed with the anthology Alpenrosen auf das Jahr 1851, Aarau und Thun: J. J. Christen, 1851, page 119.

Confirmed with Liederbuch von Friedrich Oser, 1842-1874. Mit einem biographischen Verzeichnis der Componisten, Basel: Benno Schwabe, Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1875, page 361-362.

¹ Alpenrosen edition: "Dran seine"
² Alpenrosen edition: "'Nen rost'gen Knopf nur"
³ Alpenrosen edition: "burgt"
⁴ Alpenrosen edition: "Und leis zum Nachbarn"
⁵ Alpenrosen edition: "nach ihm seine"
⁶ Alpenrosen edition: "Hier ward mein Vater hingesenket."

Text Authorship:

• by Friedrich Heinrich Oser (1820 - 1891), "Ein Fund ", appears in Liederbuch, in 6. Romanzen, no. 385 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by Theodor Gaugler (1840 - 1892), "Ein Fund", op. 22 no. 14, published 1876 [ ttbb chorus ], from Fünfzehn Lieder und Gesänge von Friedrich Oser zunächst für Volksgesang (vierstimmigen Männerchor), no. 14, Binningen: Kompfe [sung text not yet checked]

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

• ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "A find", copyright © 2026, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Research team for this page: Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor], Melanie Trumbull

This text was added to the website: 2017-08-29
Line count: 20
Word count: 123

Around the open grave a circle forms,
A young life lies in the shrine;
There is not one eye that, burning hotly,
Does not weep the bright tears of parting!

And one from out of the dense throng
Suddenly stoops hastily to the ground,
A strong man with dark hair,
Deep woe in his demeanour.

For what does his hand scrabble in the damp mould
With such a trembling yearning?
It must be a rich find of gold
Upon which his eyes are greedily fastened? --

[He picks up a worthless little ring]1
From the ashes of the dead with a deep sigh,
-- Two great tears fall upon it --
And stows it carefully in his pocket.

And to his neighbour, who [has]2 mutely turned
His gaze upon him, [he]3 whispers,
"Here -- it is thirty years ago --
[My mother was lowered into the earth!]4"