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Wirst du halten, was du schwurst, Wenn mir die Zeit die Locken bleicht? Wie du über Berge fuhrst, Eilt das Wiedersehn nicht leicht. Änd'rung ist das Kind der Zeit, Womit Trennung uns bedroht, Und was die Zukunft beut, Ist ein blässer's Lebensroth. Sieh, die Linde blühet noch, Als du heute von ihr gehst; Wirst sie wieder finden, doch Ihre Blüthen stiehlt der West. Einsam steht sie dann, vorbei Geht man kalt, bemerkt sie kaum. Nur der Gärtner bleibt ihr treu, Denn er liebt in ihr den Baum.
Note: No published source of this poem is known. Most likely Schubert received the text in manuscript form from Széchényi, the dedicatee of Schubert's op. 7.
Authorship
- by Sárvár-Felsővidéki gróf Széchényi Lajos (1781 - 1855) [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 Franz Peter Schubert (1797 - 1828), "Die abgeblühte Linde", op. 7 (Drei Lieder) no. 1, D 514 (1817?) [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "El til•ler desflorit", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "De uitgebloeide linde", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "The faded linden", copyright ©
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le tilleul fané", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Peter Rastl [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 87
Tiendras-tu ce que tu as juré, Quand le temps a blanchi mes boucles ? Comme tu es parti au-dessus des montagnes, Hâter le retour n'est pas facile. Le changement est l'enfant du temps, Qui avec la séparation nous menace, Et ce que le futur offre N'est qu'une pâle rougeur de la vie. Regarde, le tilleul fleurit encore, Alors qu'aujourd'hui tu le quittes ; Tu le verras à nouveau, bien que Ses fleurs auront été volées par le vent d'ouest. Solitaire il se tiendra alors, devant On passera indifférent, le remarquant à peine. Seul le jardinier lui restera fidèle, Car il aime l'arbre pour lui-même.
Authorship
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to French (Français) copyright © 2010 by Guy Laffaille, (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:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Sárvár-Felsővidéki gróf Széchényi Lajos (1781 - 1855)
This text was added to the website: 2010-02-05
Line count: 16
Word count: 104