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

«Ich freu mich, sprach das Mägdelein
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
«Ich freu mich, sprach das Mägdelein,
Und will den Sommer fröhlich sein
Und lauter guter Dinge;
Mein Herze ist von Freuden voll,
Daß ich mich wohl gehaben soll
Mit einem Edelinge.

Lieb Tochter, war der Mutter Rath,
Der Knabe sich vermessen hat,
Er hat dich hintergangen.
Die Rosen haben Dornen all,
Wenn er dir zuwirft seinen Ball,
So sollst du ihn nit fangen.

Frau Mutter, laßt die Rosen stehn,
Ich will zu meinem Buhlen gehn
Und weiß ihn wohl zu finden;
Es klingt sein Lied wie keins im Land,
Er fängt mich höflich bei der Hand
Im Reien an der Linden.

Lieb Kind, nimm dir des Meiers Sohn,
Deß Liedel geht aus anderm Ton,
Er hat die Truh voll Gulden;
Dein Vater bläst das Jägerhorn,
Ich hab im Haus nicht Flachs, nicht Korn,
Der Ritter hat nur Schulden.

Den Dorfknab mag ich nimmer ha'n,
Der Ritter hat mir's angethan,
Verguldt sind seine Sporen,
Mein Freundschaft und mein Heimlichkeit
Gehören ihm in Ewigkeit,
Ihm hab ich mich verschworen. --

O weh, ihr Rosen, welk und blaß,
Wie wurdet ihr von Thränen naß,
Wie seid ihr nun verzaget.
Auf einem Grabe ganz allein
Da sitzt ein kleines Vögelein
Zur Winterszeit und klaget.»

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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 (Sharon Krebs) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2010-02-22 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:34
Line count: 36
Word count: 199

“I rejoice, the maiden spoke
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
“I rejoice, the maiden spoke,
And shall be happy in summertime
And always in good spirits;
My heart is full of joys,
That I am to enjoy the society of
A nobleman.

Dear daughter, was the mother’s advice,
The lad behaved too audaciously,
He has betrayed you.
The roses all have thorns,
If he tosses you his ball,
You are not to catch it.

Mistress Mother, let the roses be,
I want to go to my lover
And I know well where to find him;
His song sounds like no other in the land,
He takes me courteously by the hand
In the roundelay at the lime tree.

Dear child, take the steward’s son,
His song is of another sort,
He has a chest full of guilders;
Your father blows the hunter’s horn,
In the house I have neither flax nor wheat,
The knight has nothing but debts.

I would never want a village lad,
The knight has taken my fancy,
His spurs are gilded,
My friendship and my secret [love]
Are his for all eternity,
I have sworn to be his. --

Oh woe, you roses, withered and pale,
How wet you became with tears,
How despairing you are now.
Upon a grave all alone
There sits a little bird
In the wintertime and laments.”

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  • 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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Text added to the website: 2014-10-21 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-10-22 00:22:55
Line count: 36
Word count: 215