Wenn mich einsam Lüfte fächeln,
Muß ich lächeln,
Wie ich kindisch tändelnd kose
Mit der Rose.
Wären nicht die neuen Schmerzen,
Möcht' ich scherzen;
Könnt' ich, was ich ahnde, sagen,
Würd' ich klagen,
Und euch bange hoffend fragen:
Was verkünden meine Loose?
Tändl' ich gleich mit Scherz und Rose,
Muß ich lächelnd dennoch klagen.
Confirmed with Poetisches Taschenbuch für das Jahr 1806 von Friedrich Schlegel. Berlin. Bei Johann Friedrich Unger. 1806, page 398; with Friedrich Schlegel's sämmtliche Werke. Erster Band. Gedichte. Berlin, bei Julius Eduard Hitzig, 1809, page 88; and with Friedrich Schlegel's sämmtliche Werke. Achter Band. Wien, bey Jakob Mayer und Compagnie. 1823, page 204.
Note: Schlegel published the poem in the first edition (1806) with the title Blanka, in subsequent editions he included the poem with the changed title Das Mädchen into his cycle Stimmen der Liebe in the subsection Ansichten.
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):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Blanca", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Blanka", copyright © 2006, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "Blanka", copyright ©
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Blanca", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Antonio Zencovich) , "Bianca", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Richard Morris , Peter Rastl
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 54
Quan estic sola i l’oreig em venteja
haig de somriure,
com quan joguinejant com un infant
acaronava una rosa.
Si no fos per les penes recents
m’agradaria plaguejar;
si pogués dir el que sento,
em planyeria
i us preguntaria amb ansiós esper:
què em reserva el meu destí?
Car si jugo amb plagasitats i roses,
llavors m’haig de plànyer tot somrient.