Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Ritter
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Das Fräulein schreibt noch munter
Am Erkerfensterlein,
Und lächelt wohl mitunter,
Es mag gar Liebes sein!

Die Gegend liegt in Träumen,
Der Mond allein ist wach,
Duft haucht es von den Bäumen,
Und Blüthen ins Gemach.

Das Brieflein ist geschrieben,
Gefaltet auch und glatt,
Sie seufzt: wer bringt dem Lieben,
Wer bringt ihm nun dies Blatt?

Da schweben leise Töne
Wie Flötenlaut herein:
Vertrau es mir, o Schöne,
Ich will dein Bote sein!

Ob er es weit getragen
Bis er den Rechten fand,
Wird auch der Lauscher sagen,
Der in den Zweigen stand.

Confirmed with Ephemeren. Dichtungen von weiland Franz Freiherrn von Schlechta-Wssehrd. Mit einem Vorworte von Heinrich Laube. Zweite Auflage. Wien. Pest. Leipzig. A. Hartleben's Verlag. 1876, pages 128-129.

Note: This poem is a modified version of Schlechta's Des ritterlichen Jägers Liebeslauschen, the first in a pair of romances (the second being Des Fräuleins Liebeslauschen, here published with the title Fräulein). Both were combined under the title Liebeslauschen, and a footnote (Veranlaßt durch zwei anmuthige Bilder von Carl von Schnorr [sic]) explains that Schlechta was inspired by two paintings by Ludwig Ferdinand Schnorr von Carolsfeld.


Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

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Set in a modified version by J. Brixner.

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

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Knight", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Peter Rastl [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2017-12-10
Line count: 20
Word count: 93

Knight
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
The maiden is still writing merrily
At her bow window,
And smiles sweetly the while;
[What she’s writing] must contain many loving things!

The countryside is lying in dreams,
Only the moon is awake;
From the trees there waft
Scent and blossoms into her chamber.

The little letter is written,
Folded up smoothly, too --
She sighs:  Who shall bring my beloved,
Who shall now bring him this sheet?

Thereupon quiet tones
Like the sound of a flute waft in:
Entrust it to me, you beautiful one,
I shall be your messenger!

Whether he carried it a great distance
Until he found the correct recipient,
That the eavesdropper will also tell,
The one who stood among the branches.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 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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This text was added to the website: 2018-01-03
Line count: 20
Word count: 117