by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 - 1832)
Translation © by Laura Stanfield Prichard

Lied des Brander
 (Sung text for setting by A. Radziwill)
 See original
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Our translations:  ENG IRI ITA LIT
Es war eine Ratt' im Kellernest,
Lebte nur von Fett und Butter,
Hatt' sich ein Ränzlein angemäst't,
Als wie der Doctor Luther.
Die Köchin hatt' ihr Gift gestellt;
Da ward's so eng' ihr in der Welt,
Als hätt' sie Lieb' im Leibe.

Sie fuhr herum, sie fuhr heraus
Und soff aus allen Pfützen,
Zernagt', zerkratzt' das ganze Haus,
Wollte nichts ihr Wüten nützen;
Sie tät' gar manchen Ängstesprung,
Bald hatt' das arme Tier genung
Als hätt' es Lieb' im Leibe.

Sie kam vor Angst am hellen Tag
Der Küche zugelaufen,
Fiel an den Herd und zuckt' und lag,
Und tät erbärmlich schnaufen.
Da lachte die Vergifterin noch:
Ha! sie pfeift auf dem letzten Loch,
Als hätt' sie Lieb' im Leibe.

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

  • ENG English (Laura Stanfield Prichard) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Gérard Labrunie) , no title, appears in Le Faust de Goethe [an adaptation]
  • IRI Irish (Gaelic) [singable] (Gabriel Rosenstock) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Cantina di Auerbach a Lipsia", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • LIT Lithuanian (Lietuvių kalba) (Giedrius Prunskus) , copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Johann Winkler

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 21
Word count: 133

There once was a rat nesting in a cellar
 (Sung text translation for setting by A. Radziwill)
 See original
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
There once was a rat nesting in a cellar,
Who lived only on lard and butter,
Who had a paunch on it,
As fat as Doctor Luther.
The cook laid out poison for it;
It seemed as though, in all the world,
As if love had consumed its body.

It ran hither, it ran thither,
And lapped at all the puddles,
Gnawed, scratched around the whole house,
But there was no use for its madness;
It leapt all over in pain,
Soon the poor creature had ached
As if love had consumed its body.

It made it from pain until the break of day
Running into the kitchen,
Fell on the hearth and twitched and lay prone,
And wheezed pitifully.
Then she laughed, the poisoner:
"Ha! it is on his last legs,
As if love had consumed its body."

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Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Laura Stanfield Prichard, (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. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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This text was added to the website: 2016-02-01
Line count: 21
Word count: 142