Auf einem jungen Rosenblatt
Mein Liebster mir geblasen hat
Wohl eine Melodei.
Es gab mir Dinge viele kund,
Das Rosenblatt am roten Mund,
Und war kein Wort dabei.
Und als das Blatt zerblasen war,
Da gab ich meinen Mund ihm dar
Und küßt an ihm mich satt.
Und viel mehr Dinge that noch kund
Der rote Mund am roten Mund,
Noch viel mehr selbst als das Rosenblatt.
Composition:
Text Authorship:
See other settings of this text.
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Maiden's song", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Chanson de fille", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Sharon Krebs
[Senior Associate Editor], Johann Winkler
This text was added to the website: 2008-04-06
Line count: 12
Word count: 68
Upon a young roseleaf
My beloved whistled for me
A melody.
It told me many things,
That roseleaf against red lips,
And yet no word was spoken.
And when the leaf had been torn from the whistling,
I gave to him my lips
And kissed him until I was satisfied.
Many, many more things were told
By the red lips against the red lips
Much more still than by the roseleaf.
