by Heinrich Heine (1797 - 1856)
Translation by Alma Strettell (1856 - 1939)

Draußen ziehen weiße Flocken
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Draußen ziehen weiße Flocken
Durch die Nacht, der Sturm ist laut;
Hier im Stübchen ist es trocken,
Warm und einsam, stillvertraut.

Sinnend sitz ich auf dem Sessel,
An dem knisternden Kamin,
Kochend summt der Wasserkessel
Längst verklungne Melodien.

Und ein Kätzchen sitzt daneben,
Wärmt die Pfötchen an der Glut;
Und die Flammen schweben, weben,
Wundersam wird mir zu Mut.

Dämmernd kommt heraufgestiegen
Manche längst vergeßne Zeit,
Wie mit bunten Maskenzügen
Und verblichner Herrlichkeit.

Schöne Fraun, mit kluger Miene,
Winken süßgeheimnisvoll,
Und dazwischen Harlekine
Springen, lachen, lustigtoll.

Ferne grüßen Marmorgötter,
Traumhaft neben ihnen stehn
Märchenblumen, deren Blätter
In dem Mondenlichte wehn.

Wackelnd kommt herbeigeschwommen
Manches alte Zauberschloß;
Hintendrein geritten kommen
Blanke Ritter, Knappentroß.

Und das alles zieht vorüber,
Schattenhastig übereilt -
Ach! da kocht der Kessel über,
Und das nasse Kätzchen heult.

About the headline (FAQ)


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:

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2008-03-14
Line count: 32
Word count: 131

By the fireside
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Out of doors to-night there is a storm,
Earth is shrouded in a snowy dress;
But within, this little room is warm --
And a place of peaceful loneliness.

Here I sit and dream of many things
By the brightly blazing hearth, and low
At my side the boiling kettle sings
As I used to hear it long ago.

And the kitten crouches by the fire,
Warms its little paws and purrs aloud;
While the flames dance gaily, leaping higher,
Through my mind the strangest fancies crowd.

Dim and misty shapes before my eyes,
Pictures of forgotten days and dead,
Like some pale and faded pageant rise,
Or some quaint old-fashioned masquerade.

Lovely women first, with earnest face,
Beckon, with a sweet mysterious air;
Then, among them, harlequins grimace,
Laugh, and cut their capers here and there.

Marble gods, with features still and grave,
Greet me from afar; and round them grow,
In the moonlight, fairy flowers that wave
Dreamily their petals to and fro.

Presently a castle old and grey,
With a heavy tread, appears in sight;
After it come riding fast, a gay
Company of knights, in armour bright.

One by one the pictures fade and grow
Misty, and I bid them all farewell . . .
Ah ! the kettle's boiling over now,
And the scalded kitten gives a yell!


Based on

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

Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2013-01-11
Line count: 32
Word count: 222