by Franz Alfred Muth (1839 - 1890)
Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Herr Winter
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
  Laß dir deinen Pelzrock fegen
Von dem garstig kalten Schnee;
Märzenwind und Märzenregen, 
Kommt heran für Schnee und Weh!

  Lang hängt dir der Eisbart nieder,
Gräulichalter Winter du!
Zeit zum Schneiden ist es wieder,
Ei, er hängt ja bis zum Schuh'!

  "Ach, wer schlägt mich, warte!" knurrend
Dreht der Winter sich herum,
Doch vom Spinnrad surrend, schnurrend
Ward der Kopf ihm gar zu dumm.

  Mit der Rose, leise, lose
Schlägt der Frühling lachend ihn;
Und vor Veilchen und vor Rose
Muß er schnellen Laufes flieh'n.

  Kinder lachen, Alte lachen,
Voller Lust und Jugendscherz --
Wer noch weint, soll eilig machen,
Denn sonst lacht sogar der Schmerz.

Confirmed with Franz Alfred Muth, Waldblumen, Dritte, durchaus ausgewählte und reich veremehrte Auflage, Paderborn: Druck und Verlag von Ferdinand Schöningh, 1885, pages 12-13.


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 (Sharon Krebs) , "Sir Winter", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2020-11-06
Line count: 20
Word count: 106

Sir Winter
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
  Let your fur coat be brushed
[Free of] the nasty cold snow;
March wind and March rain,
Approach in lieu of snow and woe!

  Your beard of ice hangs down low and long,
You ghastly old winter, you!
Once more it is time for a trim,
Lo, [your beard] hangs down to your shoe!

  Growling, "Ah, who is beating me, just wait!" 
Winter turns around,
But from the whirring, purring of the spinning wheel
His head was all too befuddled.

  With a rose, gently, lightly
Spring is laughingly beating him;
And confronted with violets and roses
He must flee, running swiftly.

  Children are laughing, old folks are laughing
Full of joy and the jests of youth --
Whoever is still weeping, should make haste,
For otherwise even pain shall laugh.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2020 by Sharon Krebs, (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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This text was added to the website: 2020-11-15
Line count: 20
Word count: 130