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Wie poltert es! - Abscheuliches Geroll Von Schutt und Erde, modernden Gebeinen! Ich kann nicht lachen und kann auch nicht weinen, Doch nimmt's mich wunder, wie das enden soll! Nun wird es still. - Sie trollen sich nach Haus Und lassen mich hier sieben Fuß tief liegen: Nun, Phantasie! laß deine Adler fliegen, Hier schwingen sie wohl nimmer mich hinaus! Das ist jetzt eine wunderliche Zeit! Im dunklen Grab kein Regen und kein Rühren, Indes der Geist als Holzwurm mag spazieren Im Tannenholz - ist das die Ewigkeit? Die Menschen sind ein lügnerisch Geschlecht Und haben in das Grab hinein gelogen, Den ernsten Moder schnöd mit mir betrogen - Weh, daß die Lüge an sich selbst sich rächt! Die Lügner gehn von hinnen ungestraft, Ach, aber ich, die Lüge, muß bekleiben, Daß sich der Tod ergrimmt an mir kann reiben, In Tropfen trinkend meines Lebens Kraft!
Text Authorship:
- by Gottfried Keller (1819 - 1890), appears in Gesammelte Gedichte, in Lebendig begraben, no. 1 [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 Othmar Schoeck (1886 - 1957), "Wie poltert es! Abscheuliches Geroll", op. 40 no. 1 (1926) [ bass or baritone, mixed chorus, and orchestra ], from Lebendig begraben: 14 Gesänge nach der gleichnamigen Gedichtfolge von Gottfried Keller, no. 1, Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Martin Stock) , "What a rumbling! - Gruesome rolling", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Quel vacarme ! horrible éboulis", copyright © 2010, (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: 20
Word count: 142
What a rumbling! - Gruesome rolling Of rocks and soil and moulding bones! I cannot laugh and cannot cry, I wonder, though, how this will end! Sounds fade away. - They are trotting home And leave me lying here seven feet deep: Now, fantasy, let your eagles fly For they will never get me out of here! What an amazing time this is! In the dark grave nothing stirs or moves Whilst the spirit, in a woodworm's guise, may make its way Through the fir wood - is this eternity? Mankind is a bunch of liars and have lied their way to the grave Meanly betrayed the stern mould with me - Woe, may the lie avenge upon itself! The liars walk away unpunished, Alas, but I, the lie, must stay So that death can fiercely rub against me, Sipping my vigour drop by drop!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2004 by Martin Stock, (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 Gottfried Keller (1819 - 1890), appears in Gesammelte Gedichte, in Lebendig begraben, no. 1
This text was added to the website: 2004-04-10
Line count: 20
Word count: 141