Tears by the Brook | Along by yonder grove a tiny brooklet flows

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from Volkslieder (Folksongs)

Translation © by Patrick John Corness

Voda a pláč

Language: Moravian (Moravština)

Our translations: ENG

Chosen for Diff

Okolo hájička teče tam vodička,
napoj mně, panenko, mého konička.
Já ho nenapojím,
já se tuze bojím,
že jsem maličká.

Před našími okny roste tam olíva;
pověz mně, panenko, kdo k vám chodívá.
K nám žádný nechodí,
mne se každý bojí,
že jsem chudobná.

Před našími okny roste 
z růže květ.
pověz mně, panenko, 
proč tě mrzi svět?
Mne svět nic nemrzí, 
mne srdenko bolí,
plakala bych hned.

Text Authorship:

from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , from a collection of Moravian folk songs compiled by František Sušil [author's text not yet checked 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 Antonín Dvořák (1841 - 1904), "Voda a pláč", op. 32 no. 1, B. 62 no. 1 (1876) [ duet for soprano and alto with piano ], from Moravské dvojzpevy III. rada, no. 1, also set in German (Deutsch) [sung text checked 1 time]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Josef Srb-Debrnov (1836 - 1904) [an adaptation] ; composed by Antonín Dvořák.
- Go to the text.

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

ENG English [singable] (John Bernhoff) , "Brooklet and tears"
ENG English (Patrick John Corness) , "Tears by the Brook ", copyright © 2023, (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: 17
Word count: 68

Tears by the Brook

Language: English after the Moravian (Moravština)

Chosen for Diff

Along by yonder grove a tiny brooklet flows, 
come, dear young lady, please water me my steed. 
I can’t water your steed, 
because I am so small, 
I am too afraid. 

See before our window, an olive tree grows tall; 
tell me, my dear young girl, who comes round to call. 
No one comes to our door, 
they shun me one and all, 
for I am so poor. 

See before our window, roses 
are in bloom; 
tell me, my dear young girl, 
why the world seems bad. 
The world is not so bad, 
at heart I am so sad 
that I have to weep.

Text Authorship:

Translation from Moravian (Moravština) to English copyright © 2023 by Patrick John Corness, (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 Moravian (Moravština) from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , from a collection of Moravian folk songs compiled by František Sušil
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2023-06-27
Line count: 17
Word count: 104