Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe | Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe, die weit oben fliegt

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from Volkslieder (Folksongs)

Translation © by Bertram Kottmann

She's like the swallow

Language: English

Our translations: FRE GER

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry,
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
I love my love and love is no more.

'Twas out in the garden this fair maid did go,
A-picking the beautiful primerose;
The more she pluck'd the more she pulled
Until she got her aperon full.

It's out of those roses she made a bed,
A stony pillow for her head.
She laid her down, no word did say,
Until this fair maid's heart did break.

She's like the swallow that flies so high,
She's like the river that never runs dry,
She's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
I love my love and love is no more.

Text Authorship:

from Volkslieder (Folksongs) [author's text not yet checked 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 (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "She's like the swallow", 1976 [voice and harp], from 8 Folk Song Arrangements, no. 2. [
text verified 1 time
]

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Elle est comme l'hirondelle", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Bertram Kottmann) , title 1: "Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this page: Virginia Knight

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 124

Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe

Language: German (Deutsch) after the English

Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe, die weit oben fliegt,
sie gleicht einem Fluss, der nie versiegt,
sie ist wie Sonn’licht am windstillen Strand
Ich liebe mein Lieb, doch ein Ende es fand.

Feins Mädel ging in den Garten hinaus,
die leuchtende Primel zu pflücken
je mehr sie pflückte, desto mehr zog sie raus,
das tat ihren Schurz entzücken.

Aus Rosen bereit’ sie ihr Lager fein
zum Kissen wurde ihr ein Stein.
sie legte sich hin, kein Wort mehr sie sprach,
bis es feins Mädel das Herz zerbrach.

Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe, die weit oben fliegt,
sie gleicht einem Fluss, der nie versiegt,
sie ist wie Sonn’licht am windstillen Strand
Ich liebe mein Lieb, doch ein Ende es fand.

Text Authorship:

Singable translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2015 by Bertram Kottmann, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.
Bertram Kottmann. Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

a text in English from Volkslieder (Folksongs)
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2015-09-09
Line count: 16
Word count: 117