Attention! Some of this material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.
To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at licenses@email.lieder.example.net
If you wish to reprint translations, please make sure you include the names of the translators in your email. They are below each translation.
Note: You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.
Heraus mit der Fiedel, den Bogen gewichst Und die rostige Kehle geschmiert! Sieh doch, wie das Mädel da zappelt und knixt Und sich dreht und sich schämt und sich ziert. Ei! Graukopf, du warst ja doch auch einmal jung Und hattest ein Liebchen im Arm, Nun bist du zu steif für den Siebensprung, So geige und singe dich warm. Und schneide mir kein so'n Holzapfelgesicht, Es kann doch nicht jeglicher Wein Wie Honig so süß und so klar wie das Licht Und so süffig wie Buttermilch sein. Der Saure macht lustig, allhup! wohl bekomm's! Na, wenn er ein wenig auch kratzt, Er hat so was Flinkes, was Glattes und Fromm's, Von dem ist noch Keiner geplatzt. Zum Kuckuk mit deinem Nachtwächtergeplärr! Da kann ich's doch besser, du Narr, Du sägest und schabst uns ein Ohrengezerr Und näselst wie unser Herr Pfarr. Mal her mit dem Zeug! jetzt, Mädel, paßt auf! Und haltet die Röcke hübsch fest, Den Rechten, den Linken, daran und darauf! Nun springt wie der Has' aus dem Nest. Nun? merkst du was, Alter? jetzt kriegst du wohl Muth? Das fluscht doch ganz anders darein, Bin selber ein Spielmann, das steckt mal im Blut, Die Fiedel macht's doch nicht allein. He! Lieselott, fülle das Krügel mir frisch, Halt! nicht von dem Lustigen, Kind! Das bin ich schon selber; da unter dem Tisch Steht's Kännlein, -- der wuchs unterm Wind.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910), no title, appears in Der Rattenfänger von Hameln: Eine Aventiure, first published 1876 [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 Eduard Geitsch , "Heraus mit der Fiedel", op. 12 no. 2, published 1882 [ four-part men's chorus a cappella ], from Zwei Lieder aus dem Rattenfänger von Hameln, von Julius Wolff, no. 2, Delitzsch, Pabst [sung text not yet checked]
- by Hans August Friedrich Zincke genannt Sommer (1837 - 1922), "Heraus mit der Fiedel", op. 2 no. 7 (1881/82), published 1882 [ voice and piano ], from Lieder und Gesänge für 1 Singstimme mit Pianoforte aus Julius Wolff's Aventiure "Der Rattenfänger von Hameln", no. 7, Hamburg, Fr. Schuberth [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Traieu el violí", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Bring out the fiddle", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-02-26
Line count: 32
Word count: 230
Bring out the fiddle, rosin the bow And oil the rusty larynx! For see how the girl there wriggles and curtseys And turns about and is embarrassed and is coy. Hey, Greybeard, you too were once young And had a sweetheart in your arms; Now you are too stiff for dancing, So fiddle and sing until you are warm. And do not show me such a crabapple face, Not every wine can be As sweet as honey and as clear as light And as quaffable as buttermilk. Sour wine makes merry, allez-houp! cheers! Well, though it may be a little harsh, It has something so quick, something smooth and meek, No one has yet burst from that. Away with your night-watchman babbling! I can do it better, you fool, You saw about on your fiddle and scrape out something that offends our ear And are as adenoidal as our pastor. Hand over your fiddle! now, girls, listen up! And hold onto your skirts nice and tightly, The right foot, the left, now here and now there! Now leap like a rabbit from its burrow. Now? do you notice anything, old man? are you becoming inspired now? That sashays about quite differently. I am myself a musician, it's simply in my blood, The fiddle does not do it on its own. Hey! Lieselott, quickly fill up my tankard, Hold it! not from the merry brew, child! I am quite merry enough myself already; there under the table Stands the pitcher, -- that brew flourished under the wind.
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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910), no title, appears in Der Rattenfänger von Hameln: Eine Aventiure, first published 1876
This text was added to the website: 2015-04-10
Line count: 32
Word count: 255