by William Blake (1757 - 1827)
Translation Singable translation © by Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov (1948 - 2020)

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
Language: English 
Available translation(s): GER RUS
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers. 

The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees."
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

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Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in Danish (Dansk), a translation by Kai Friis Møller (1888 - 1960) , copyright © ; composed by Peder Holm.

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

  • CZE Czech (Čeština) (Jaroslav Vrchlický) , "Jeseni"
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Dem Herbste", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • RUS Russian (Русский) [singable] (Dmitri Nikolaevich Smirnov) , "К Осени", first published 1979, copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 151

К Осени
Language: Russian (Русский)  after the English 
О Осень, плодоносный дух
Кровавым виноградом обагрённый,
Войди под мирный кров; здесь отдохни.
Твой звучный глас моей свирели в лад
Пусть о цветах расскажет, о плодах,
И пусть творенья года в танце кружат.

“Открылась почка солнцу, и любовь
Проникла сквозь трепещущие жилки;
Зарделись щёки у небесных зорь,
Украшенных цветением Весны,
И Лето мир наполнило жужжаньем,
Венчая ночь короной облаков.

А эльфы пьют плодовый аромат
И радость легкокрылая парит
Над садом и смеётся меж ветвей.”
Спев песню, улыбнулся добрый дух,
Стан препоясал и вдали исчез
За мрачным склоном, златой оставив груз.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2008-02-15
Line count: 18
Word count: 90