[Die stille Wasserrose]1
Steigt aus dem blauen See,
[Die Blätter flimmern und blitzen]2,
Der Kelch ist weiß wie Schnee.

Da gießt der Mond vom Himmel
All' seinen gold'nen Schein,
Gießt alle seine Strahlen
In ihren Schooß hinein.

Im Wasser um die Blume
Kreiset ein weißer Schwan,
Er [singt]3 so süß, so leise
Und schaut die Blume an.

Er singt so süß, so leise
Und will im Singen vergehn --
O Blume, weiße Blume,
Kannst du das Lied verstehn?

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Emanuel Geibel, Gedichte, Vierte Auflage, Berlin: Verlag von Alexander Duncker, 1845, page 63.

¹ C. Schumann: "Die stille Lotusblume" or "Die stille Lotosblume"
² Lachner, Wegener-Koopman: "Die feuchten Blätter zittern"
³ Kücken: "singet"

Text Authorship:

• by Emanuel von Geibel (1815 - 1884), no title, appears in Jugendgedichte, in 1. Erstes Buch, in Lieder als Intermezzo, no. 9

See other settings of this text.

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

• CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Wijtse Rodenburg) , "De stille waterlelie", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• ENG English (David Kenneth Smith) , "The quiet lotus-blossom/water-rose", copyright © 1996, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "La fleur de lotus immobile", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• SPA Spanish (Español) (Elisa Rapado) , copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 77

A silent water-lily 
From the dark lake doth rise ; 
Her tender snow-white blossom 
On the still water lies. 

The moon, from highest heaven, 
Pours down its golden light ; 
And all its rays are gathered 
Into that blossom bright. 

Around that snow-white flower 
A singing swan doth float ; 
It is his dying hour, 
It is his dying note. 

He pours his soul in music, 
His heart must break, ere long; 
O flower, -- snow-white flower ! 
Wilt thou not hear the song ?