by Georg Trakl (1887 - 1914)
Translation © by Bertram Kottmann

De profundis
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Our translations:  ENG FRE ITA
Es ist ein Stoppelfeld, in das ein schwarzer Regen fällt.
Es ist ein brauner Baum, der einsam dasteht.
Es ist ein Zischelwind, der leere Hütten umkreist.
Wie traurig dieser Abend.

Am Weiler vorbei
Sammelt die sanfte Waise noch spärliche Ähren ein.
Ihre Augen weiden rund und goldig in der Dämmerung
Und ihr Schoß harrt des himmlischen Bräutigams.

Bei der Heimkehr
Fanden die Hirten den süßen Leib
Verwest im Dornenbusch.

Ein Schatten bin ich ferne finsteren Dörfern.
Gottes Schweigen
Trank ich aus dem Brunnen des Hains.

Auf meine Stirne tritt kaltes Metall
Spinnen suchen mein Herz.
Es ist ein Licht, das in meinem Mund erlöscht.

Nachts fand ich mich auf einer Heide,
Starrend von Unrat und Staub der Sterne.
Im Haselgebüsch
Klangen wieder kristallne Engel.

Text Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

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

  • ENG English (Bertram Kottmann) , "De profundis", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "De profundis", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "De profundis", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-09-23
Line count: 21
Word count: 124

De profundis
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
There is a stubblefield onto which a black rain falls.
There is a brown tree that stands forlorn.
There is a hissing wind, that circles empty huts.
What a gloomy evening.

Past the hamlet
the meek orphan is still gleaning the sparsely remaining corn.
Her eyes graze - round, pure and golden in the dusk
and her womb waits for the heavenly groom.

On their way home
shepherds found the sweet body,
putrid in the thornbush.

A shadow am I, away from darksome villages.
God’s silence
I drank from the well in the grove.

Cold metal appears on my brow,
spiders look for my heart.
There is a light, that dies in my mouth.

At night I found myself on a heath
thick with filth and the dust of stars.
In the hazel bush
crystalline angels sounded again.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.

    Bertram Kottmann.  Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de

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Based on:

 

This text was added to the website: 2014-07-11
Line count: 21
Word count: 137