Schon sank die Sonne nieder,
Es ist geworden spät:
Ein Wandrer wie ein Schatten
Zieht hin den Felsenpfad.
Er denkt an seine Heimat,
Und an die Jugendzeit,
Die Jugend ist verschwunden,
Die Heimat ist so weit.
Da hört er fernher Glocken,
Als riefen sie ihm zu:
O bringt dem müden Wandrer,
O bringet auch mir Ruh.
Da schwindelt's ihm, er stürzet
Vom Pfade gäh hinab,
Tief unten in den Schluchten,
Da findet er sein Grab.
Die Abendglocken schweigen,
Nur leise rauscht der Bach,
Hinab die dunklen Fluten,
Hinab mit Weh und Ach.
Composition:
Text Authorship:
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The weary wanderer", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Le voyageur fatigué", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Sharon Krebs
[Senior Associate Editor]This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 96
The sun has already gone down,
It has grown late:
Like a shadow, a wanderer
Moves along the rocky path.
He thinks of his homeland,
And of the time of youth
Youth has passed away,
Home is so far.
Then from afar he hears bells,
As if they were calling to him:
Oh bring to the weary wanderer,
Oh bring peace to me as well.
He grows dizzy, he plunges
Rapidly down from the pathway;
Deep down in the gullies
He finds his grave.
The evening bells fall silent,
Only the brook rushes quietly
Down the dark gullies,
waters
Down with a doleful outcry.
