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Wir Kinder, wir schmecken Der Freuden recht viel, Wir schäkern und necken, Versteht sich im Spiel; Wir lärmen und singen Und rennen rundum, Und hüpfen und springen Im Grase herum. Warum nicht? - Zum Murren Ist's Zeit noch genug! Wer wollte wohl knurren, Der wär' ja nicht klug. Wie lustig steh'n dorten Die Saat und das Gras! Beschreiben mit Worten Kann keiner wohl das. Ha, Brüderchen, rennet Und wälzt euch im Gras! Noch ist's uns vergönnet, Noch kleidet uns das! Ach, werden wir älter, So schickt's sich nicht mehr, Dann treten wir kälter Und steifer einher. Ei, seht doch, ihr Brüder, Den Schmetterling da! Wer wirft ihn uns nieder? Doch schonet ihn ja! Dort flattert noch einer, Der ist wohl sein Freund, O schlag' ihn ja keiner, Weil jener sonst weint. Wird dort nicht gesungen? Wie herrlich das klingt! Vortrefflich, ihr Jungen, die Nachtigall singt. Dort sitzt sie, dort oben Im Apfelbaum, dort; Wir wollen sie loben, So fährt sie wohl fort. Komm Liebchen hernieder Und lass' dich beseh'n! Wer lehrt dich die Lieder? Du machst es recht schön! O lass' dich nicht stören, Du Vögelchen du! Wir alle, wir hören So gerne dir zu. Wo ist sie geblieben? Wir seh'n sie nicht mehr. Da flattert sie drüben. Komm wieder hier her! Vergeblich, die Freude Ist diesmal vorbei: Ihr tat wer zu Leide, Sei, was es auch sei. Laßt Kränzchen uns winden, Viel Blumen sind hier. Wer Veilchen wird finden, Empfängt was dafür. Ein Mäulchen zur Gabe Gibt Mutter, wohl zwei. Juchheisa! Ich habe, Ich hab' eins, juchhei! Ach, geht sie schon unter, Die Sonne, so früh? Wir sind ja noch munter, Ach, Sonne verzieh'! Nun morgen, ihr Brüder, Schlaft wohl, gute Nacht! Ja, morgen wird wieder Gespielt und gelacht.
W. Mozart sets stanzas 1, 4, 5, 8, 9
Text Authorship:
- by Christian Adolf Overbeck (1755 - 1821), appears in Fritzchens Lieder [author's text checked 1 time 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 Carl Christian Agthe (1762 - 1797), "Das Kinderspiel" [sung text not yet checked]
- by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 - 1791), "Das Kinderspiel", K. 598, stanzas 1,4,5,8,9 [sung text checked 2 times]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Kinderspel", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Malcolm Wren) , "Children at play", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Jeu d'enfants", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Gioco dei bambini", copyright © 2005, (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: 72
Word count: 289
We children, we have a taste For pleasure, we really like it, We mess about and tease people, When we are playing, needless to say; We make a noise and we sing And we run around, And hop and jump About in the grass. Why not? - Grumbling? There will be enough time for that later! Anybody who wanted to moan Would not be very clever. What fun there is out there With the corn and the grass! Describe it with words? Nobody can ever do that. Hey, little brothers, run And roll around in the grass! We are still allowed to do that, It is something that is still suitable for us to do! Oh, when we are older It will no longer be appropriate, By then we will have a colder, More rigid bearing. Hey, look at that, brothers, Look at that butterfly there! Who wants to catch it for us? Oh no, just let him go! There's another one flapping about over there, Who must be his friend, So don't hit him any of you Otherwise that other one will cry. Isn't that singing I can hear over there? How majestic it sounds! Young people, how splendidly The nightingale is singing. That's where she is sitting, up there In the apple tree, there; We ought to praise her Then she will carry on singing. Come down here, love, And let yourself be admired! Who teaches you those songs? You are doing it really beautifully! Oh, don't let yourself be disturbed, You little bird, you! All of us are listening To you with such pleasure. Where is she, is she still there? We can't see her any more. She is up there, flying off. Come back here! In vain, the pleasure Has come to an end this time: Somebody did something to hurt her, Whatever it was. Let us plait ourselves a garland, There are lots of flowers here. Anybody who finds violets Will get something in exchange for them! The gift of a little kiss Is what your mother will give you, possibly two. Yippee! I've got one, I've got one, yippee! Oh, is it going down already, Is the sun setting so early? But we are still up and about, Oh sun, forgive us! So, see you tomorrow brothers, Sleep well, good night! Yes, tomorrow there is again going to be Play and laughter.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2018 by Malcolm Wren, (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 Christian Adolf Overbeck (1755 - 1821), appears in Fritzchens Lieder
This text was added to the website: 2018-04-11
Line count: 72
Word count: 397