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

Der Wagen rollt
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Hoch auf dem gelben Wagen
Sitz' ich bei'm Schwager vorn.
Vorwärts die Rosse jagen,
Lustig schmettert das Horn.
Berge und Wälder und Matten,
Wogendes Aehrengold. --
Möchte wohl ruhen im Schatten,
Aber der Wagen rollt.

Flöten hör' ich und Geigen,
Kräftiges Bassgebrumm;
Lustiges Volk im Reigen
Tanzt um die Linde herum,
Wirbelt wie Laub im Winde,
Jubelt und lacht und tollt. --
Bliebe so gern bei der Linde,
Aber der Wagen rollt.

Postillon an der Schenke
Füttert die [Rosse]1 im Flug;
Schäumendes Gerstengetränke
Bringt uns der Wirth im Krug.
Hinter den Fensterscheiben
Lacht ein Gesichtchen hold. --
Möchte so [gern]2 noch bleiben,
Aber der Wagen rollt.

Sitzt einmal ein Gerippe
Hoch auf dem Wagen vorn,
Trägt statt Peitsche die Hippe,
Stundenglas statt Horn --
Ruf' ich: "Ade ihr Lieben,
Die ihr noch bleiben wollt;
Gern wär' ich selbst noch geblieben,
Aber der Wagen rollt."

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Rudolf Baumbach Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Vierte Auflage, Leipzig: Verlag von A.G. Liebeskind, 1882, pages 161-162.

1 Metzig: "Ross' "
2 Metzig: "gerne"

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) , "The coach trundles onward", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2014-01-16
Line count: 32
Word count: 140

The coach trundles onward
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
High upon the yellow coach
I sit up front with the postilion.
The horses dash along,
The horn sounds merrily.
Mountains and forests and meadows,
Waving golden wheat. --
I would fain rest in the shade,
But the coach trundles onward.

I hear a fluting and fiddling,
A powerful buzzing of the bass;
A jolly group of people in a roundelay
Dances about the linden tree,
Twirls like leaves in the wind,
Rejoices and laughs and cavorts. --
I would so gladly remain by the linden tree,
But the coach trundles onward.

At the tavern the postilion
Hastily feeds the horses;
A foaming drink of barley brew
The publican brings us in a jug.
Behind the windowpanes
A little face is smiling beautifully. --
I would so gladly still linger,
But the coach trundles onward.

When once a skeleton sits
High up in front upon the coach,
Carrying a sickle instead of a whip,
An hourglass instead of a horn --
Then I shall call out: "Adieu ye loved ones,
Who still wish to remain;
I would have gladly lingered myself,
But the coach trundles onward."

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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Based on

 

This text was added to the website: 2020-05-02
Line count: 32
Word count: 182