Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: CAT CAT CHI DUT ENG FRE SPA
Erwin
Ihr verblühet, süße Rosen,
Meine Liebe trug euch nicht;
Blühet, ach! dem Hoffnungslosen,
Dem der Gram die Seele bricht!
Der auf erste Knöspchen lauernd
früh zu seinem Garten ging,
ach der Tage denk ich trauernd,
als ich Engel an dir hing.
Alle Blüten, alle Früchte
Noch zu deinen Füßen trug
Und vor deinem Angesichte
Hoffnung mir im Herzen schlug.
Ihr verblühet, süße Rosen,
Meine Liebe trug euch nicht;
Blühtet, ach! dem Hoffnungslosen,
Dem der Gram die Seele bricht.
Note: in Perfall's score, there are two typos: stanza 2, line 4, word 5 is "hin" instead of "ging"; and stanza 3, line 4, word 5 is "trug" instead of "schlug".
Composition:
Set to music by Fanny Hensel (1805 - 1847), "Erwin", op. 7 no. 2
Text Authorship:
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
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Manuel Capdevila i Font) , copyright © 2025, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- CHI Chinese (中文) [singable] (Dr Huaixing Wang) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Emily Ezust) , no title, copyright ©
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Juan Henríquez Concepción) , "El tiempo de las rosas", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Lau Kanen
[Guest Editor] , Sharon Krebs
[Senior Associate Editor], Johann Winkler
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 17
Word count: 81
Language: Dutch (Nederlands)  after the German (Deutsch)
Erwin
Je verwelkt nu, lieve rozen,
Redding bood mijn liefde niet;
Bloei, ach, voor de hopeloze,
Die nu breekt door groot verdriet!
Die, naar eerste knopjes turend,
Vroeg steeds naar zijn tuin toe ging;
Aan die dagen denk ik treurend,
Toen ik, engel, aan jou hing.
Alle bloesems, alle vruchten
Braaf nog naar jouw voeten droeg
En voor jou, mijn hoog doorluchte,
Hoopvol ook mijn hart nog sloeg.
Je verwelkt nu, lieve rozen,
Redding bood mijn liefde niet;
Bloei, ach, voor de hopeloze,
Die nu breekt door groot verdriet.
Text Authorship:
Based on:
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2017-03-11
Line count: 17
Word count: 92