by Heinrich Stieglitz (1801 - 1849)
Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Fitne's Sehnen
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Wo schweifst Du, Turan, noch in tiefer Nacht
Im Staub des Weges? Ach, in tiefer Nacht
    Wacht einsam Fitne.
 
Wacht einsam, Dein verlangend, Stürmender;
Und suchtest sonst doch Frieden so gern
    An Fitne's Herzen.
 
    Wo ist nun das Gluthverlangen,
Das aus Deinen Blicken strahlend
Mich mit Allgewallt [sic] durchdrang,
Als ich bebend Dir in's Auge schaute,
Als den Arm an meine Brust ich preßte,
Der die Glückliche im Sieg errang?--
 
    Turan, Deine Fitne schmachtet,
Schmachtet, glüht, und lechzt nach Dir nur,
Und Du bleibst, wie Sand der Wüste,
Starr bei ihrer Liebe Glühn.
 
    Turan, ruft dich mein Verlangen,
Turan, ruft mein stummer Jammer,
Ruft mein Schmerz und meine Klage
Dich zu Fitne nicht zurück? --
 
    Meine Thränen sind vertrocknet
An der heißen Gluth des Herzens;
Meine Seufzer, meine Klagen
Schwinden in die öde Nacht.

Confirmed with Bilder des Orients von Heinrich Stieglitz, Erster Band, I. Arabien, Leipzig, bei Carl Cnobloch, 1831, pages 18-19.


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: "Fitne's longing", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

Text added to the website: 2015-07-12 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-07-12 21:26:59
Line count: 24
Word count: 133

Fitne's longing
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Where are you roaming, Turan, even in deep night
In the dust of the road?  Ah, in deep night
    Fitne keeps watch alone.
 
Keeps watch alone, yearning for you, raging one;
You, who usually sought peace so gladly
    Upon Fitne's heart.
 
    Where is now the flaming yearning
That, gleaming forth from your glances,
Powerfully suffused me,
When, trembling, I looked into your eyes,
When I pressed against my breast the arm
That in victory won the happy woman?--
 
    Turan, your Fitne is languishing,
Languishing, burning, and longing only for you,
And, like the sand of the desert, you remain
Unyielding to the glow of her love.
 
    Turan, does not my longing call you,
Turan, does not my mute misery call you,
Does not my pain and my lamenting call
You back to Fitne?--
 
    My tears have been dried up
By the fervent burning of my heart;
My sighs, my laments
Vanish into the desolate night.

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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Text added to the website: 2015-07-12 00:00:00
Last modified: 2015-07-12 21:27:14
Line count: 24
Word count: 155