Der Pilger am See
Language: German (Deutsch)
Du lächelst aus der Felsenwiege,
Geheimnißvoller Alpensee,
Und weckst durch deine holden Züge
Zu neuer Qual das alte Weh.
Was soll dein liebesüßes Werben,
Das mich im Wellenschlag umrauscht?
Ich weiß es ja, daß nur Verderben
In deinen kühlen Armen lauscht.
So blickten ihre lieben Augen,
So himmelspiegelnd -- blau und klar!
Der Brust die Seele zu entsaugen,
Dir ihr nun folgt unwandelbar.
Drum irr' ich nun -- von ihr geschieden --
Von meinem Selbst -- durch Schicksalshohn,
Hier ohne Leben, ohne Frieden,
Den Schemen gleich am Acheron.
O singet, silberne Sylphiden,
Im lispelnden Sirenenchor
Dem Sehnsuchtskranken -- Lebensmüden
Die eigene Geschichte vor!
Ich kann den Schmerzenszug verstehen,
Der bang durch euren Wohllaut bebt,
Ich habe selber diese Wehen,
Die Seligkeiten selbst erlebt.
Confirmed with Franz von Schober, Gedichte, Stuttgart und Tübingen: J. G. Cotta'scher Verlag, 1842, pages 32 - 33.
Text 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 pilgrim at the lake", copyright © 2025, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Bertram Kottmann , Melanie Trumbull
This text was added to the website: 2020-04-16
Line count: 24
Word count: 118
The pilgrim at the lake
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
You smile from out of your rocky cradle,
Mysterious alpine lake,
And through your lovely lineaments
You waken the old pain to new agony.
Wherefore your sweet, loving wooing
That soughs about me in the beating of your waves?
For I know that it is only ruin
That hearkens in your cool arms.
Thus did her dear eyes gaze,
So heaven-reflecting -- blue and clear!
In order to draw the soul from my breast,
[The soul] that now follows her immutably.
Therefore, I now stray about -- separated from her --
From my very self -- through the mocking of fate,
Here without life, without peace,
Like the spectres at [the river] Acheron.
Oh sing, silver sylphs,
[Sing] the whispering chorus of the sirens
To one who is sick with yearning – [to one who is] weary of life,
[Sing to him of] his own experience.
I can understand the vein of pain
That anxiously trembles through your waves,
I myself have experienced
These woes, these felicities.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2025 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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2025-11-21
Line count: 24
Word count: 163
