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Es war eine stolze Königin, gar lieblich ohne Maßen; kein Ritter stand noch ihrem Sinn, sie wollt' sie alle hassen. O weh, du wonnigliches Weib! Wem blühet wohl dein süßer Leib! Im Wald eine rote Blume stand, ach, so schön wie die Königin, Welch Rittersmann die Blume fand, der konnt' die Frau gewinnen! O weh, du stolze Königin! Wann bricht er wohl, dein stolzer Sinn? Zwei Brüder zogen zum Walde hin, sie wollten die Blume suchen: Der Eine hold und von mildem Sinn, der Andre konnte nur fluchen! O Ritter, schlimmer Ritter mein, O ließest du das Fluchen sein! Als sie nun zogen eine Weil', da kamen sie zu scheiden: das war ein Suchen nur in Eil', im Wald und auf der Heiden. Ihr Ritter mein, im schnellen Lauf, wer findet wohl die Blume auf? Der Junge zieht durch Wald und Heid', er braucht nicht lang zu gehn: Bald sieht er von ferne bei der Weid' die rote Blume stehen. Die hat er auf den Hut gesteckt, und dann zur Ruh' sich hingestreckt. Der Andre zieht im wilden Hang, umsonst durchsucht er die Heide, und als der Abend herniedersank, da kommt er zur grünen Weide! O weh, wen er dort schlafend fand, die Blume am Hut, am grünen Band! Du wonnigliche Nachtigall, und Rotkehlchen hinter der Hecken, [wollt ihr mit eurem süßen Schall]1 den armen Ritter erwecken! Du rote Blume hinterm Hut, du blinkst und glänzest ja wie Blut! Ein Auge blickt in wilder Freud', des Schein hat nicht gelogen: ein Schwert von Stahl glänzt ihm zur Seit', das hat er nun gezogen. Der Alte lacht unterm Weidenbaum, der Junge lächelt wie im Traum. Ihr [Blumen]2, was seid ihr vom Tau so schwer? Mir scheint, das sind gar Tränen! Ihr Winde, was weht ihr so traurig daher, was will euer Raunen und Wähnen? "Im Wald, auf der grünen Heide, da steht eine alte Weide."
1 alternatively, "mir scheint, wollt ihr mit eurem Schall"
2 alternatively, "Blätter"
Authorship:
- by Gustav Mahler (1860 - 1911) [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 Gustav Mahler (1860 - 1911), "Waldmärchen", from Das klagende Lied, no. 1 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Conte del bosc", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Ahmed E. Ismail) , "Forest Legend", copyright © 2006, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Histoire de la forêt", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Fiaba del bosco", copyright © 2009, (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: 54
Word count: 314
There once was a haughty queen, Lovely beyond compare: No knight was worthy of her, She hated them all. O you, oh beautiful woman. For whom shall your sweet body bloom? In the wood grew a red flower, Oh so beautiful, that the queen decreed, Whichever knight found the flower, He would win her hand in marriage! Oh, you haughty yet lovely queen! When shall your proud soul break? Two brothers came upon the woods, Intent on seeking the flower: One was a comely and gentle soul, The other couldn't help but swear! O knight, my horrible knight, O hold back your awful curses! After walking together for a little while, They went their separate ways: They searched in haste Through woods and heaths. My dear knights, rushing headlong, Who will find the flower? The younger trekked through woods and fields, But did not have far to go: Before long, he saw that in the distance by the meadow, There stood the red flower. He tucked the flower inside his hat, And then stretched himself out for a rest. The other spied him, with wild urgency, In vain had he sought the flower in the heath, And when the evening had fallen at last, He came to the green pasture! O woe, when he found his sleeping brother, The flower in his hat, behind the green ribbon! You wonderful nightingale, And little bluebird behind the hedges, Won't you with your sweet song Awaken the poor knight? You red flower behind the hat, You glimmer and glisten like blood! An eye beholds, with savage joy. Its gleam has never lied: A shining steel sword hangs at his side, Which now he draws! The elder laughs under the willow tree, The younger smiles, as if dreaming. You flowers, why are you so heavy from the dew? It seems to me that those are tears! You winds, why do you blow so coldly? What do your whispers mean? "In the wood, in a green moor, There stood an old willow tree."
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2006 by Ahmed E. Ismail, (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 Gustav Mahler (1860 - 1911)
This text was added to the website: 2006-03-30
Line count: 54
Word count: 338