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Mein Liebster keck ist ein Matros'; Er kämpft mit Wind und Wasserhos' Und knüpft, was uns're Herzen band, Gleich seinem Schiffstau los. Ich zöge gern mit Herz und Hand Das flüchtige Schiff zurück zum Strand; Doch meine Sehnsucht treibt es nur; Es flieht schon weit vom Land. Mein Liebster spannt das Segel quer; Wie rauscht sein Segel durch's wilde Meer! Ich weiß nicht, bringt ihn wiederum Ein guter Wind mir her. Was baut' ich auch, ein thöricht Kind, Auf Häuser, die entführt der Wind! Nun wein' ich mir die Wangen blaß Und meine Augen blind. Mein Liebster steuert mittagwärts, Die Flut empfindet nicht den Schmerz; Er führt so kräft'gen Ruderschlag Und jeder trifft das Herz. Schlag' er das Meer nur immerhin, Das treulos ist von Sinn! Doch warum schlägt er auch dies Herz, Das nichts geliebt, als ihn!
Composition:
- Set to music by Richard Poebing (1851 - 1918), "Ligurisches Volkslied", op. 8 (Vier Lieder für 1 Singstimme mit Pianoforte) no. 3, published 1895 [ voice and piano ], München, Schmid Nachf.
Text Authorship:
- by Heinrich Leuthold (1827 - 1879), "Ligurisches Volkslied", appears in Gedichte, in 2. Lieder von der Riviera, no. 13
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2026, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor], Harry Joelson , Johann Winkler
This text was added to the website: 2007-06-11
Line count: 24
Word count: 145
My bold beloved is a sailor, He battles with the wind and typhoons And loosens that which binds our hearts Exactly like he does his mooring rope. With heart and hand, I would gladly pull The fleeing boat back to the shore; But my yearning only drives it onward; It is already flying far from the land. My beloved sets his sails crossways; How his sails rush through the wild sea! I do not know if a favourable wind Shall bring him back to me again. Why did I, a foolish child, Ever build my hopes upon houses that the wind carries off! Now I weep until my cheeks grow pale And my eyes go blind. My beloved steers toward the south, The waters do not feel the pain; He wields such powerful oar-strokes And every one of them strikes my heart. May he go on beating the sea, Which has a faithless spirit! But why does he also beat this heart of mine, Which has loved nothing but him!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2026 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.
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Heinrich Leuthold (1827 - 1879), "Ligurisches Volkslied", appears in Gedichte, in 2. Lieder von der Riviera, no. 13
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This text was added to the website: 2026-10-28
Line count: 24
Word count: 176