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Daß das Schöne und Berückende Nur ein Hauch von Schauer sei, Dass das Köstliche, Entzückende, Holde ohne Dauer sei: Wolke, Blume, Seifenblase, Feuerwerk und Kinderlachen, Frauenblick im Spiegelglase Und viele andre wunderbare Sachen, Dass sie, kaum entdeckt, vergehen, Nur von Augenblickes Dauer, Nur ein Duft und Windeswehen, Ach, wir wissen es mit Trauer. Und das Dauerhafte, Starre Ist uns nicht so innig teuer: Edelstein mit kühlem Feuer, Glänzendschwere Goldesbarre; Selbst die Sterne, nicht zu zählen, Bleiben fern und fremd, sie gleichen Uns Vergänglichen nicht, erreichen Nicht das Innerste der Seelen. Nein, es scheint das innigst Schöne, Liebenswerte dem Verderben Zugeneigt, stets nah am Sterben, Und das Köstlichste: die Töne Der Musik, die im Entstehen Schon enteilen, schon vergehen, Sind nur Wehen, Strömen, Jagen Und umweht von leiser Trauer, Denn auch nicht auf Herzschlags Dauer Lassen sie sich halten, bannen; Ton um Ton, kaum angeschlagen, Schwindet schon und rinnt von dannen. So ist unser Herz dem Flüchtigen, Ist dem Fließenden, dem Leben Treu und brüderlich ergeben, Nicht dem Festen, Dauertüchtigen. Bald ermüdet uns das Bleibende, Fels und Sternwelt und Juwelen, Uns in ewigem Wandel treibende Wind- und Seifenblasenseelen, Zeitvermählte, Dauerlose, Denen Tau am Blatt der Rose, Denen eines Vogels Werben, Eines Wolkenspieles Sterben, Schneegeflimmer, Regenbogen, Falter, schon hinweggeflogen, Denen eines Lachens Läuten, Das uns im Vorübergehen Kaum gestreift, ein Fest bedeuten Oder weh tun kann. Wir lieben, Was uns gleich ist, und verstehen, Was der Wind in Sand geschrieben.
F. Bolli sets lines 1-12
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Confirmed with Hermann Hesse, Sämtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Volker Michels, Band 10 Die Gedichte, bearbeitet von Peter Huber, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2002, pages 379-380.
Authorship:
- by Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962), "In Sand geschrieben", written 1947 [author's text checked 2 times 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 Frédéric Bolli (b. 1953), "In Sand geschrieben", <<1981, lines 1-12 [ four-part men's chorus and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Written in the sand", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2009-04-30
Line count: 52
Word count: 238
That the beautiful and bewitching Is only a breath of awe, That the precious, the enchanting, The lovely is without permanence: Cloud, flower, soap bubble, Fireworks and the laughter of children, The glance of a woman in the mirror And many other wonderful things, That they, barely discovered, fade away, Last only a moment, Are only a scent and a waft of wind, Ah, we know that with mourning. And the permanent, the rigid Is not so intimately precious to us: Jewels with cold fire, Luster-laden bars of gold; Even the stars, impossible to count, Remain far away and foreign, they are not Like us, the evanescent ones, do not reach The innermost part of our souls. No, it seems that the most fervently beautiful, [The most] endearing is inclined Toward destruction, always near to dying, And the most precious: the sounds Of music, which in the making Already flee, already cease to be, Are only a blowing, streaming, chasing, And are wafted about by quiet mourning, Because for not even a heartbeat Do they permit themselves to be held, to be captured; Sound upon sound, barely struck Already fades and trickles away. Thus is our heart given over Faithfully and fraternally To the flowing, the fleeting, to life, Not to the firmly founded, to that which is capable of lasting. We are soon tired of that which lasts, Rock and star-world and jewels, We who are driven in eternal change, Wind- and soap-bubble-souls, Wedded to time, ephemeral, For whom the dew upon a rose petal, For whom the wooing of a bird, The dying of a play of clouds, Glittering snow, a rainbow, A butterfly, already flown away, To whom the sound of laughter That barely touches us in passing, Can mean a celebration Or can give pain. We love That to which we are similar, and we understand What the wind has written in the sand.
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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Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962), "In Sand geschrieben", written 1947
This text was added to the website: 2018-02-06
Line count: 52
Word count: 318