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by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)
Translation Singable translation by Sophie von Reinhardt, Gräfin

'Tis the last rose of summer
Language: English 
Our translations:  CAT DUT FRE
'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flow'r of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er [thy bed,
Where]1 thy mates of the garden
Lie [scentless]2 and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie wither'd.
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Britten: "the bed/ Where"
2 Britten: "senseless"

Text Authorship:

  • by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "'Tis the last rose of summer", appears in Irish Melodies, first published 1813

See other settings of this text.

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

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (Guy Tops) , "’t Is de laatste roos van de zomer", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "C'est la dernière rose de l'été", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this page: Ted Perry

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 112

Die letzte Rose
 (Sung text for setting by E. Zumsteeg)
 Matches base text
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Es ist die letzte Rose,
Die so einsam hier noch blüht,
Und alle andern Rosen
Sind lange schon verglüht;
Ach, keine ihrer Schwestern,
Kein Knöspchen mehr ist hier,
Zu spiegeln ihr Erröten,
Zu sterben noch mit ihr.

Ich lasse nicht dich Eine
So einsam hier vergehn,
Die holden Schwestern schlafen,
Du sollst zu ihnen geh'n.
Sanft will ich deine Blätter
Auf diesen Rasen streu'n,
Der ohne Duft und Leben
Schon birgt die Schwestern dein.

O könnten wir so folgen,
Wenn Freundschaft uns betrügt,
Und an der Liebe Krone
Der Strahlen Glanz versiegt!
Denkt, treue Herzen, Erde
Ist was wir liebten fern,
Wer möchte einsam weilen
Auf diesem falschen Stern?

Composition:

    Set to music by Emilie Zumsteeg (1796 - 1857), "Die letzte Rose", op. 5 (Sechs Lieder) no. 1

Text Authorship:

  • Singable translation by Sophie von Reinhardt, Gräfin

Based on:

  • a text in English by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), "'Tis the last rose of summer", appears in Irish Melodies, first published 1813
    • Go to the text page.

Go to the general single-text view


Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2007-11-20
Line count: 24
Word count: 109

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