The ash grove
Language: English
Our translations: CAT GER
Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander,
When twilight is fading, I pensively rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove.
'Twas there while the blackbird was joyfully singing,
I first met my dear one, the joy of my heart;
Around us for gladness the bluebells were ringing,
Ah! then little thought I how soon we should part.
Still glows the bright sunshine o'er valley and mountain,
Still warbles the blackbird his note from the tree,
Still trembles the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain;
But what are the beauties of nature to me?
With sorrow, deep sorrow, my bosom is laden,
All day I go mourning in search of my love.
Ye echoes, O tell me, where is the sweet maiden?
She sleeps 'neath the green turf down by the ash grove.
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):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "La freixeneda", copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Sharon Krebs) , "Der Eschenhain", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Ted Perry
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 142
La freixeneda
Language: Catalan (Català)  after the English
Allà baix, en aquella verda vall on els rierols serpegen,
a l’hora foscant, vagarejo pensarós,
o en la lluminosa claror del migdia, passejo
entre les fosques ombres de la solitària freixeneda.
Fou allà, mentre la merla cantava alegrament,
que vaig conèixer la meva estimada, la joia del meu cor;
al nostre entorn les campànules sonaven,
ai, que poc pensava llavors que ben aviat ens separaríem.
La llum del sol brilla encara damunt valls i muntanyes,
des de l’arbre, la merla refila encara el seu cant,
el raig de lluna tremola encara damunt rierols i fonts;
però què signifiquen les beutats de la natura per a mi?
Amb pena, profunda pena, el meu pit està oprimit,
ple de dol, cerco tot el dia el meu amor.
Vosaltres ecos, oh digueu-me, on és la dolça donzella?
Ella dorm sota la verda gespa, allà a la freixeneda.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from English to Catalan (Català) copyright © 2024 by Salvador Pila, (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: 2024-10-04
Line count: 16
Word count: 144