Longing | This winter morning

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by Eduard Mörike (1804 - 1875)

Translation © by Charles James Pearson

Sehnsucht

Language: German (Deutsch)

Our translations: ENG

In dieser Winterfrühe
Wie ist mir doch zumut!
O Morgenrot, ich glühe
Von deinem Jugendblut!

Es glüht der alte Felsen,
Und Wald and Burg zumal,
Berauschte Nebel wälzen
Sich jäh hinab das Tal.

Mit tatenfroher Eile
Erhebt sich Geist and Sinn,
Und flügelt goldne Pfeile
Durch alle Ferne hin.

Auf Zinnen möcht' ich springen
In alter Fürsten Schloß,
Möcht' hohe Lieder singen,
Mich schwingen auf das Roß!

Und stolzen Siegeswagen
Stürzt' ich mich brausend nach!
Die Harfe wird zerschlagen,
Die nur von Liebe sprach.

-Wie? schwärmst du so vermessen,
Herz, hast du nicht bedacht,
Hast du mit eins vergessen,
Was dich so trunken macht?

Ach, wohl! Was aus mir singet,
Ist nur der Liebe Glück,
Die wirren Töne schlinget
Sie sanft in sich zurück.

Was hilft, was hilft mein Sehnen?
Geliebte, wärst du hier!
In tausend Freudentränen
Verging' die Erde mir.

Text Authorship:

by Eduard Mörike (1804 - 1875) [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 Hugo Distler (1908 - 1942), "Sehnsucht", op. 19 (Mörike-Chorliederbuch), Heft 1 no. 22 (1939) [ chorus ] [sung text checked 1 time]
by Raimund Schwedeler (b. 1925), "Sehnsucht", published 1980 [ voice and piano ], from 14 Lieder zum Tages- und Jahreslauf, no. 12 [sung text not yet checked]

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

ENG English (Charles James Pearson) , "Longing", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this page: Charles James Pearson

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 141

Longing

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

This winter morning
how different I feel!
O sunrise, I glow
with your bloom of youth!

The ancient boulders are glowing
and forest and mountain, too,
Drunken clouds roll
headlong down the valley.

In busy haste
my spirit and thoughts are lifted
and fly like golden arrows
away into the distance.

I would spring to the battlements
of the old prince's castle,
sing great songs,
leap upon my horse!

And I rushed noisily after
the proud victory coach,
the harp was dashed to bits,
which spoke only of love.

- What?  such misguided confidence,
heart, have you not considered,
have you suddenly forgotten
what made you so besotted?

Oh, well! That which sings from me
is only love's good fortune
that absorbs the confusing sounds
softly into itself.

What will ease my yearning?
Beloved, were you here!
In a thousand tears of joy
my worldly troubles would disappear.

Text Authorship:

Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Charles James Pearson, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

a text in German (Deutsch) by Eduard Mörike (1804 - 1875)
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 147