by Nikolaus Lenau (1802 - 1850)
Translation © by Emily Ezust

Herbstentschluß
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG FRE
Trübe Wolken, Herbstesluft,
Einsam wandl' ich meine Straßen,
Welkes Laub, kein Vogel ruft --
Ach, wie stille! wie verlassen!

Todeskühl der Winter naht;
Wo sind, Wälder, eure Wonnen?
Fluren, eurer vollen Saat
Goldne Wellen sind verronnen!

Es ist worden kühl und spät,
Nebel auf der Wiese weidet,
Durch die öden Haine weht
Heimweh; -- Alles flieht und scheidet.

Herz, vernimmst du diesen Klang
Von den felsentstürzten Bächen?
Zeit gewesen wär' es lang,
Daß wir ernsthaft uns besprechen!

Herz, du hast dir selber oft
Wehgethan, und hast es Andern,
Weil du hast geliebt, gehofft;
Nun ist's aus, wir müssen wandern!

Auf die Reise will ich fest
Ein dich schließen und verwahren,
Draußen mag ein linder West,
Oder Sturm vorüberfahren;

Daß wir unsern letzten Gang
Schweigsam wandeln und alleine,
Daß auf unsern Grabeshang
Niemand als der Regen weine!

Confirmed with Gedichte von Nicolaus Lenau, Vierte Auflage (Fourth Edition), Stuttgart und Tübingen, J. G. Cotta'scher Verlag, 1840, pages 98-99.


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 (Emily Ezust) , "Autumn decision", copyright © 2019
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Résolution d'automne", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2019-08-15 21:17:50
Line count: 28
Word count: 134

Autumn decision
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Dark clouds, autumn breezes,
Alone I travel my roads,
Withered leaves, no birds singing -
Ah, how silent! how desolate!

Winter is approaching, cold as death;
Woods, where are your delights?
Fields,  your plenteous crops'
Golden waves have gone away!

It has become cold and late,
A mist grazes upon the hayfield;
Nostalgia suffuses the bleak grove;
Everything is fleeing and departing.

Heart, do you hear the noise
Of brooks rushing down the rocks?
It is high time
That we spoke to each other seriously!

Heart, you have so often hurt yourself 
And hurt others,
Because you loved, [and] hoped;
Now it's over, [and] we must go!

During the journey I will firmly
Shut you up and keep you safe,
Whether outside a gentle westerly wind
Or a storm is passing;

So that we might make our final journey
In silence and solitude,
So that on the hillside of our grave
Nobody will weep but the rain!

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2019 by Emily Ezust

    Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:

    Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
    from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


Based on

 

Text added to the website: 2019-08-11 00:00:00
Last modified: 2019-08-11 22:18:36
Line count: 28
Word count: 157