Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Der Sänger schlich um Liebchens Tür
  Sein Zittherspiel im Arm,
  Das Auge voller Liebesgluth,
  Die Brust voll süßem Harm.
Er sang mit holdem Klagelaut:
  "O laßt mich hier allein!
  Die Menschen alle, klug und froh,
   Die sollen ferne seyn.
Versteht mich keiner doch so wohl,
  Als hier mein Zittherspiel;
  Gab keiner doch der wunden Brust
  Des Trostes je so viel.
Sie rufen wohl mir klüglich zu:
  Ermahne Dich, und flieh!
  Gebannt in süßen Zauberkreis,
  Vermag’s der Arme nie.
Bedeutsam geht der Stunden Lauf
  An meinem Leben hin;
  Was Andre so gelassen sehn,
  Bewegt mir Herz und Sinn.
Ich deute sehnend Bilderschrift
  Aus Liebchens Sprach' und Gang,
  und sprech' es liebend wieder aus
  Im bildenden Gesang.
Den Besten soll des Sängers Wort
  Geoffenbaret seyn;
  Für Andre hüllt sich stolze Kunst
  In tiefe Nebel ein.
Drum beut der Liebe gern das Lied
  Die schwesterliche Hand;
  Drum kleidet gern die Liebe sich
  In Liedes Festgewand."
Da kam das Hofgesind herbey,
  Dem Weis' und Ton gefiel.
  Der Sänger ging in Wald zurück
  Mit seinem Zittherspiel.

Confirmed with Gedichte von Fridr. Baron de la Motte-Fouqué, Neueste Auflage, Wien: Bey B. Ph. Bauer, 1816, pages 13-15


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

Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2015-11-12
Line count: 36
Word count: 171

Singer's happiness
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
The singer crept about the door of his beloved,
  His zither in his arm,
  His eyes glowing with love,
  His breast full of sweet grief.
He sang with a lovely lamenting tone:
  "O leave me alone here!
  All the people, clever and happy,
  They shall stay far away.
No one understands me as well
  As here my zither;
  No one ever gave my wounded breast
  So much comfort.
Truly, they counsel me wisely:
  Admonish yourself and flee!
  [But] caught in a sweet magical circle,
  I, the poor fellow, can never do it.
Significantly the march of the hours passes
  Along my life;
  What others regard with such equanimity,
  Moves my heart and spirit.
Yearningly I interpret the signs
  Of my beloved's words and walk,
  And lovingly I articulate them again
  In formative song.
The word of the singer shall be revealed
  To the best people;
  For others, proud artistry shrouds
  Itself in profound mists.
Therefore song gladly extends to love
  A sisterly hand;
  Therefore love gladly clothes itself
  In the festive garb of song."
At that there gathered the court servants,
  Who admired the tune and the tone.
  The singer retreated to the forest
  With his zither.


  • 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.

Based on


This text was added to the website: 2015-11-12
Line count: 36
Word count: 197