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War eine Harfe golden geschmückt mit zartem Band, die hing wohl in der Halle gar traurig an der Wand; hatt' freudig einst gerauschet, getönt manch lie-ben Sang, hat alles rings gelauschet, wenn sie so hold erklang. Und wer da kommt und gehet, der frägt mit trü-bem Sinn, wo ist, du goldne Harfe, dein lieblich Tönen hin? Da wehet durch die Hallen der Abendwind so mild; ein wunderleises Schallen drob aus den Saiten quillt. Und wie die Töne säuseln und in einander wehn, so ist's, als sollt ihr Klagen ein kundig Ohr verstehn. "Wohl muß ich singen weilend, verstummet und verstimmt, bis mich in Arm nicht heilend der hohe Meister nimmt." Er höret's mit Erbarmen, tut seine Milde kund, in hohen Meisters Armen die Harfe wird gesund. Und wieder freudig rauschet und tönt manch heller Sang, rings alles wieder lauschet, noch nie so hold sie klang.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Heinrich August Marschner (1795 - 1861), "Sängers Genesung", op. 30 (Acht deutsche Lieder für eine Singstimme mit Begleitung des Pianoforte) no. 6, published 1829 [ voice and piano ], Halberstadt, Brüggemann [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (John H. Campbell) , "Singer's recovery", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: John H. Campbell
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 145
A golden harp, adorned with a fine ribbon, that hung forlornly in the foyer on the wall; joyfully it had sounded once, accompanying lovely songs, many have listened to its lovely sounds. And whoever comes here, they ask with sadness, where, o golden harp, are your delightful sounds now? The evening breeze blows through the hall so softly; a wond'rous-quiet voice sounds from the strings. And as the sounds murmur in each breath of wind, a very careful ear might hear the harp's complaint. "I must remain silent and out of tune until my master takes me in his arms and cures me." He hears its soft plaint with pity, in the master's arms the harp is healed. And rustles again joyfully, sounding even more brightly, all again listen, never before has it sounded so lovely.
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by John H. Campbell, (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 Otto Erich Bohl
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 136