by Richard Pohl (1826 - 1896)
Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Es stand in alten Zeiten
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the German (Deutsch) 
Our translations:  ENG FRE
Erzählerin (alto solo)
 Es stand in alten Zeiten ein Schloss, so hoch und hehr,
 Weit glänzt' es über die Lande bis an das blaue Meer,
 Und rings von duft'gen Gärten ein blütenreicher Kranz,
 Drin sprangen frische Brunnen in Regenbogenglanz.

 Dort saß ein stolzer König, an Land und Siegen reich,
 Er saß auf seinem Throne so finster und so bleich;
 Denn was er sinnt, ist Schrecken, und was er blickt, ist Wut,
 Und was er spricht, ist Geißel, und was er schreibt, ist Blut.

 Einst zog nach diesem Schlosse ein edles Sängerpaar,
 Der Alte mit der Harfe, er sitzt auf schmuckem Ross,
 Ihm schreitet frisch zur Seite der blühende Genoss.

Text Authorship:

Based on:

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

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

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

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "In olden times there stood", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Dans les anciens temps", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-07-19
Line count: 12
Word count: 109

In olden times there stood
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Narrator [female] (alto solo)
 In olden times there stood a castle, so high and lofty.
 It shone out over the lands all the way to the blue sea,
 And round about [was] a blossom-rich garland of scented gardens,
 In which fresh fountains leapt in rainbow radiance.
 
 There sat a proud king, rich in lands and victories,
 He sat upon his throne so gloweringly and so pale;
 For what he is planning is horrors, and what he sees is rage,
 And what he speaks is scourge, and what he writes is blood.
 
 Once upon a time there travelled to this castle a noble pair of singers,
 The old one with the harp, he sat upon a trim steed,
 His companion in the bloom of youth strode briskly at his side.

Text 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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This text was added to the website: 2015-07-02
Line count: 12
Word count: 129