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Es kommt noch einmal mir zu Sinn Der Liebe holdes Wunder; Wir gehen durch die Mondnacht hin, Die Nachtigall klagt im Hollunder. Es bettet sich schwer und süß Dein Haupt Auf meine Brust mit Beben, Mein Herz, das längst sich tot geglaubt, Erwacht noch einmal zum Leben. Es schauert und ringt im Mondenlicht, Weil mit gewaltigem Triebe Durch seine Tiefen kosend bricht Der Lenzsturm Deiner Liebe. O gönne mir einen letzten Traum, Du Kind mit glühenden Wangen: Bleib treu mir, bis vom Holderbaum Die Blätter wirbelnd gegangen, Ich möchte mildern den Abschiedsschmerz Durch etwas seltsam Neues, Ich möchte sterbend pressen ans Herz Ein Frauenherz -- ein treues. Des Glückes Tage geh'n im Flug, Bald ist es Sommermitte... Es ist ja nur ein holder Betrug Um den ich scheu Dich bitte. Denn fallen die Blätter müd und lind Herbstduftend an den Wegen, Dann gehe auch ich, ein Blatt im Wind, Dem ewigen Lenz entgegen, Dann gehe auch ich, um weit von hier, Wohl unter rauschenden Bäumen In aller Ewigkeit von Dir Und Deiner Liebe zu träumen.
Confirmed with Prinz Emil von Schönaich-Carolath, Dichtungen, pages 287-288.
Authorship:
- by Emil Rudolf Osman, Prinz von Schönaich-Carolath (1852 - 1908), "Letztes Blühen" [author's text checked 2 times against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Hans August Friedrich Zincke genannt Sommer (1837 - 1922), "Letztes Blühen ", op. 30 no. ? (1895), published 1896 [ voice and piano ], from Letztes Blühen, Leipzig, C. F. Leede [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Floriment tardívol", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Last flowering", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2014-11-17
Line count: 32
Word count: 174
Once more my spirit is filled with The lovely miracle of love; We walk through the moonlit night, The nightingale laments in the elder-bush. Your head lies heavily and sweetly Upon my breast with trembling, My heart, that I had long thought dead, Awakens to life once more. My heart shudders and struggles in the moonlight Because, with a mighty burgeoning, Through its depths breaks out caressingly The springtime storm of your love. Oh grant to me one last dream, You child with glowing cheeks: Remain true to me until from the elder-bush The leaves have been whirled away, I would like to mitigate the sorrow of parting Through something unusual and new, Dying I would like to press to my heart A woman's heart - a faithful one. Days of happiness pass in a flash, Soon it is midsummer . . . It is only a lovely deception That I shyly beg of you. For when the leaves fall tiredly and gently, Autumn-scented, along the pathways, Then I, too, a leaf in the wind, shall go Toward the eternal spring, Then I, too, shall go, far from here To dream under the soughing trees In all eternity, of you And of your love.
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2015 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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Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Emil Rudolf Osman, Prinz von Schönaich-Carolath (1852 - 1908), "Letztes Blühen"
This text was added to the website: 2015-03-20
Line count: 32
Word count: 204