by Rudolph Baumbach (1840 - 1905)
Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Herbst
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG ENG
Wenn im Purpurschein
Blinkt der wilde Wein
Und am Bach die Weide steht bereift;
Wenn die Zeitlos' blüht,
Wenn die Drossel zieht
Und ihr Scheidelied vom Schlehdorn pfeift.

Wenn in Wald und Feld
Laut der Bracke bellt
Und das schlanke Reh verbluten muß,
Wenn die Haselmaus
In ihr Winterhaus
Schleppt die allerletzte Buchennuß:

Dann ade, ihr Felder,
Berge, Föhrenwälder,
Pfarrer, Förster, Schultheiss, Müller, Bäck!
Hab' das Wandern satt,
Ziehe nach der Stadt,
Wo der Roland steht am Rathauseck.

Blondes Gretelein,
Laß das Trauern sein!
Mit den Schwalben komm' ich wieder her.
Sollt' ich sterben eh'r,
Weine nicht so sehr,
Weil es schad' um deine Aeuglein wär'.

R. Heuberger sets stanza 1

Confirmed with Rudolf Baumbach, Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Leipzig: Verlag von A. G. Liebeskind, 1878, pages 65-66.


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

  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Autumn", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Autumn", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

Text added to the website: 2007-08-18 00:00:00
Last modified: 2020-02-04 13:44:43
Line count: 24
Word count: 106

Autumn
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
When in the purple radiance
The wild grapes are gleaming
And along the brook the willow stands in hoar frost;
When the autumn crocus blooms,
When the thrush migrates
And pipes its farewell song from the blackthorn.

When in forest and field
The hunting hound barks loudly
And the slender deer must bleed to death,
When the dormouse
Drags into his winter house
The very last beech nut:

Then adieu, ye fields,
Mountains, pine forests,
Pastor, forest ranger, mayor, miller, baker!
I have had enough of wandering,
I shall travel to the city
Where the Roland-statue stands at the corner of the town hall.

Blonde Gretel,
Leave off your sorrowing!
With the swallows I shall return.
If I should die before then,
Do not weep so sorely,
Because it would be a pity to spoil your eyes.

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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Text added to the website: 2020-02-05 00:00:00
Last modified: 2020-02-06 18:32:38
Line count: 24
Word count: 137