by Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910)
Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Herbst
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Es falbt der Wald, bunt wird das Laub
Und spielt in allen Farben,
Das Korn ward längst der Sense Raub,
Aus Ähren wurden Garben.
Gelbgrüner Wipfel Goldesglanz
Mischt sich mit bräunlich dunkeln,
Purpur durchglüht den Bergeskranz,
Feurige Büsche funkeln.

Nun ist dem Herbste Macht verliehn,
Der Wind braust in den Zweigen,
Und lange Sommerfäden ziehn,
Die kleinen Vöglein schweigen.
Ein kalter Hauch weht durch die Hall'n
Und will ans Herz uns fassen,
Wir müssen, wenn die Blätter fall'n,
Von unserm Liebsten lassen.

So welkt das Glück, das uns erfreut,
Dem wir mit Dank und Segen
Die letzten Blumen noch gestreut
Auf winterlichen Wegen.
Und stille wird's, bald decket Schnee,
Was todesreif geschieden,
Und hüllet Unruh, Streit und Weh
In tiefen Schlafes Frieden.

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, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , title 1: "Autumn", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2010-02-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 122

Autumn
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
The forest fades, the foliage turns
And frolics in every colour,
The wheat has long since fallen before the sickle,
The ears of wheat became sheaves.
The golden lustre of the yellow-green treetops
Mingles with dark brown shadows,
Crimson glows throughout the corona of mountains,
Fiery bushes blaze.

Now autumn has been granted power,
The wind roars in the branches,
And long gossamer strands float about,
The little birds fall silent.
Cold air blows through the rooms
As if to grasp our hearts;
When the leaves fall, we must
Part from that which we hold dearest.

Thus wilts the joy that make us happy,
[The joy] for which, with gratitude and blessings,
We still strewed the last flowers
Upon wintery ways.
And it becomes quiet, soon the snow shall cover
What departed, ready for death,
And envelops unrest, strife, and sorrow
In the peace of deep sleep.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2014 by Sharon Krebs, (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: 2014-07-27
Line count: 24
Word count: 147