by Alfred Mombert (1872 - 1942)
Translation © by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Warm die Lüfte
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG FRE ITA NOR
Warm die Lüfte,
es sprießt Gras auf sonnigen Wiesen.
Horch!--
Horch, es flötet die Nachtigall...
Ich will singen:

Droben hoch im düstern Bergforst,
es schmilzt und [sickert]1 kalter Schnee,
ein Mädchen im grauen Kleide
lehnt am feuchten Eichstamm,
krank sind ihre zarten Wangen,
die grauen Augen fiebern
durch Düsterriesenstämme.
"Er kommt noch nicht. Er läßt mich warten"...
 
Stirb!
Der Eine stirbt, daneben der Andere lebt:
Das macht die Welt so tiefschön.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Alfred Mombert, Dichtungen, Gedicht-Werke, ed. Elisabeth Herberg, Erster Band, München: Kösel-Verlag von J. Hörning, 1963, pages 108-109

1 one source gives "glitzert"

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):

  • NOR Norwegian (Bokmål) (Marianne Beate Kielland) , copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Jakob Kellner) , title 1: "Warm the breezes", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "L'air est doux", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , title 1: "Tiepide brezze", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Research team for this text: Jakob Kellner , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 71

Tiepide brezze
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the German (Deutsch) 
Tiepide brezze,
germoglia l'erba sui prati assolati.
Ascolta!
Ascolta, l'usignolo col suo canto flautato...
Voglio cantare anch'io:
Là sopra, sul monte, nella oscura selva,
mentre la fredda neve si discioglie,
una fanciulla vestita di grigio,
al tronco umido di una quercia si appoggia,
è sofferente il suo tenero viso,
e febbrile lo sguardo dei suoi occhi grigi
che vaga attraverso tronchi cupi e giganteschi.
"Egli ancora non viene, e mi fa aspettare..."
Tu muori!
L'uno muore, mentre l'altro vive:
questo fa il mondo così intensamente bello.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to Italian (Italiano) copyright © 2010 by Ferdinando Albeggiani, (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: 2010-03-24
Line count: 16
Word count: 86