by
Hildegard Jone (1891 - 1963)
Das dunkle Herz
Language: German (Deutsch)
Das dunkle Herz, das in sich lauscht,
erschaut den Frühling nicht nur am Hauch und Duft,
der durch das Leuchten blüht;
es fühlt ihn an dem dunklen Wurzelreich,
das an die Toten rührt:
Was wird, legt sich mit zarten Wurzeln
an das Wartende im Dunkel,
trinkt Kraft und Stille aus der Nacht,
eh' sich's dem Tage senkt,
eh' es als Liebeskelch zum Himmel duftet
und eh' aus ihm zu ihm ein goldnes Flattern Leben trägt:
Ich bin nicht mein.
Die Quellen meiner Seele,
sie sprudeln in die Wiesen dessen, der mich liebt,
und machen seine Blumen blühen
und sind sein.
Du bist nicht dein.
Die Flüße deiner Seele,
du Mensch, von mir geliebt,
sie strömen in das Meine,
daß es nicht verdorre.
Wir sind nicht unser,
ich und du und Alle.
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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):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The dark heart", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Hubert Schmid , Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 23
Word count: 131
The dark heart
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
The dark heart that harkens unto itself
espies spring not only by its breezes and scents,
[spring] that blooms through the radiance;
it feels [spring] in the dark realm of the roots
that touches the dead:
That which is coming into being places itself with delicate rootlets
against that which waits in the darkness,
it drinks strength and quietness from the night,
before it lowers itself to day,
before it, as a chalice of love, emits its scents toward heaven
and before from it to it a golden fluttering bears life:
I am not mine.
The wellsprings of my soul,
they bubble in the meadows of him who loves me
and make his flowers bloom
and are his.
You are not yours.
The rivers of your soul,
you human loved by me,
they surge into that which is mine
so that it may not wither.
We are not ours,
I and you and everyone.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2017 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.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2017-09-08
Line count: 23
Word count: 154