LiederNet logo

CONTENTS

×
  • Home | Introduction
  • Composers (20,102)
  • Text Authors (19,442)
  • Go to a Random Text
  • What’s New
  • A Small Tour
  • FAQ & Links
  • Donors
  • DONATE

UTILITIES

  • Search Everything
  • Search by Surname
  • Search by Title or First Line
  • Search by Year
  • Search by Collection

CREDITS

  • Emily Ezust
  • Contributors (1,114)
  • Contact Information
  • Bibliography

  • Copyright Statement
  • Privacy Policy

Follow us on Facebook

×

Attention! Some of this material is not in the public domain.

It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.

To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at licenses@email.lieder.example.net

If you wish to reprint translations, please make sure you include the names of the translators in your email. They are below each translation.

Note: You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.

by Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810 - 1876)
Translation © by Lawrence Snyder

Schwalbenmärchen
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Our translations:  ENG
Auf dem stillen, schwülen Pfuhle
tanzt die dünne Wasserspinne;
unten auf krystallnem Stuhle
thront die Unkenköniginne.
Von den edelsten Metallen
hält ein Reif ihr Haupt umzogen,
und wie Silberglocken schallen
Unkenstimmen durch die Wogen.

Denn der Lenz erschien; die Schollen
sind zerflossen; Blüten zittern;
dumpfe Frühlingsdonner rollen
durch die Luft, schwarz von Gewittern. 
Wasserlilienkelche fliessen
auf des Teiches dunkelm Spiegel,
und die ersten Schwalben schiessen
drüber hin mit schnellem Flügel.

Aus den zarten Schnäbeln leise
tönt Gezwitscher in die Wellen:
»Viele Grüße von der Reise
haben wir dir zu bestellen.
Lange waren wir im fremden
sandbedeckten heissen Ländern,
wo in weiten Kaftanhemden träge
Turbanträger schlendern.

Purpurfarbne Wunderpflanzen
dienten uns zu Meilenweisern;
gelbe Mauren sah'n wir tanzen
nackt vor ihren Leinwandhäusern.
Lechzend auf dem warmen Sattel
saß der Araber, der leichte,
während Ziegenmilch und Datel
ihm aufs Pferd die Gattin reichte.

Auf die Jagd der Antilopen,  
Kriegerisch, mit Spiess und Pfeile,
zogen schlanke Aethiopen;
klagend tönte Memnons Säule
Aus des Niles Flut getrunken
haben wir, matt von der Reise;
Gruß dir, Königin der Unken,
von dem königlichen Greise!

Alles grüßt dich, Blumen, Blätter!
Doch zumeist der Grüße viele
bringen wir von deinem Vetter,
ja von deinem lieben Vetter,
von dem Krokodil im Nile!«

Text Authorship:

  • by Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810 - 1876) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]

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

  • by Carl Loewe (1796 - 1869), "Schwalbenmärchen", op. 68 no. 1 (1839) [sung text checked 1 time]

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

  • ENG English (Lawrence Snyder) , "Swallow's Tale", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this page: Lawrence Snyder

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 45
Word count: 202

Swallow's Tale
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
On the quiet sultry pool
Danced the delicate water strider,
Below on a crystal stool
Was throned the Toad Queen.
Of the noblest medals
Was the circlet around her head,
And like siver bells sounded
The frog chorus through the waters.

Then came Spring; the clods
Were breaking up; blossoms quiver;
Muffled Spring thunder rolls
Through the air, black with storms.
Waterlily blooms float
On the pond's dark mirror,
And the first swallows shoot
Overhead on swift wings.

From tender beaklets softly
Tone chirpings over the waves:
Many greetings from our journey
Have we been asked to give you.
Long were we in foreign
Sand-covered hot lands,
Where clothed in loose caftan robes
Turban wearers stroll.

Purple-hued wonder-plants
Fed us mile after mile;
We saw yellow moors dancing
Naked in front of reed huts.
Thirsty on the hot saddles
Sat Arabians, to whom lightly,
While reaching up to them ahorse,
Their wives handed goat milk and dates.

On the antelope hunt
Warrior-like, with spear and arrow,
Ran the slender Ethiopian;
In mourning sounded Memnon's column.
We have drunk from the Niles flood,
Dusty from the journey;
Greetings to thee, Toad Queen,
From the Venerable and Kingly.

Everything greets thee, flowers, leaves!
But the most greetings of all
We bring thee from thy cousin,
Yes from your beloved cousin
From the Crocodile in the Nile."

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Lawrence Snyder, (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:

  • a text in German (Deutsch) by Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810 - 1876)
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 45
Word count: 224

Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

Donate

We use cookies for internal analytics and to earn much-needed advertising revenue. (Did you know you can help support us by turning off ad-blockers?) To learn more, see our Privacy Policy. To learn how to opt out of cookies, please visit this site.

I acknowledge the use of cookies

Contact
Copyright
Privacy

Copyright © 2025 The LiederNet Archive

Site redesign by Shawn Thuris