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In the morning I cast my net into the sea. I dragged up from the dark abyss things of strange aspect and strange beauty -- some shone like a smile, some glistened like tears, and some were flushed like the cheeks of a bride. When with the day's burden I went home, my love was sitting in the garden idly tearing the leaves of a flower. I hesitated for a moment, and then placed at her feet all that I had dragged up, and stood silent. She glanced at them and said, "What strange things are these? I know not of what use they are!" I bowed my head in shame and thought, "I have not fought for these, I did not buy them in the market; they are not fit gifts for her." Then the whole night through I flung them one by one into the street. In the morning travellers came; they picked them up and carried them into far countries.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
- by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in The Gardener, no. 3 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941) [text unavailable]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Ann Marie Callaway (b. 1949), "Unspoken things", 2001 [ soprano, bass, chorus, and piano ], from Songs From the Gardener, no. 3, note: this may be the wrong text for this title [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-11-07
Line count: 18
Word count: 162
Am Morgen warf’ ich meine Netze aus ins Meer. Aus abgrundtiefem Dunkel zog ich Seltsames herauf und Schönes. Manch eines strahlte wie ein Lächeln, manch eines glitzerte wie Tränen, und manches war errötet wie die Wangen einer Braut. Als ich heimkam mit des Tages schwerem Fang, traf ich die Liebste an im Garten. Träge riss sie an Blättern einer Blume. Ich zauderte im ersten Augenblick. Dann legt' ich ihr zu Füßen, was ich hochgezogen, und schwieg. Flüchtigen Blicks sah sie es an und fragte: „Was ist das Seltsames? Weiß wirklich nicht, wofür es gut sein soll!“ Beschämt senkt’ ich den Kopf und dachte: „Ich habe nicht darum gekämpft, ich hab’s nicht auf dem Markt erstanden; es ist kein passendes Geschenk für sie.“ Dann warf ich es, eins nach dem andern, die ganze Nacht lang auf die Straße. Am Morgen kamen Reisende; sie hoben die Geschenke auf und brachten sie in ferne Länder.
About the headline (FAQ)
Translation of title "Unspoken things" = "Unausgesprochenes"Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2016 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
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Based on:
- a text in English by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in The Gardener, no. 3
Based on:
- a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941) [text unavailable]
This text was added to the website: 2016-03-13
Line count: 18
Word count: 152