by
Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
In falling timbers buried
Language: English
Our translations: FRE GER
In falling timbers buried
There breathed a man.
Outside the spades were plying,
The lungs within.
Could he know they sought him,
Could they know he breathed,
Horrid sand partition,
Neither could be heard.
Never slacked the diggers,
But when spades had done,
Oh reward of anguish,
It was dying then.
Many things are fruitless,
'Tis a baffling earth,
But there is no gratitude
Like the Grace of death.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text 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 or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- 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 between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 69
Verschüttet unter Trümmern
Language: German (Deutsch) after the English
Verschüttet unter Trümmern
keuchte ein Mensch.
Draußen plagten Spaten sich,
die Lungen, drin.
Wusst’ er von der Suche?
Und sie, dass er noch lebt?
Schutt und Trümmerberge -
keiner den andern hört.
Nimmer ruhn die Spaten,
doch als sie es geschafft -
ach, welch Lohn der Mühsal -
hat der Tod gesiegt.
Vieles ist vergebens -
schwer zu verstehn die Welt -
doch letztlich danken wir
dem barmherz’gen Tod.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2016-11-28
Line count: 16
Word count: 64
