by William Butler Yeats (1865 - 1939)
Translation © by Walter A. Aue

I went out to the hazel wood
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE GER
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called [me by]1 my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple [blossom]2 in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
[And walk among long dappled grass,]1
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
First published in Sketch, August 1897, revised 1899, renamed "Song of Wandering Aengus"
1 omitted by Edmunds
2 Edmunds: "blossoms"


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):

  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Walter A. Aue) , "Das Lied des Wandernden Aengus", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Garrett Medlock [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2007-05-02
Line count: 24
Word count: 164

Das Lied des Wandernden Aengus
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Ich ging hinaus zum Haselstrauch,
denn Feuer war in meinem Hirn,
und schnitt und schält mir einen Stab
und knüpfte Beeren in den Zwirn;
und während Motten flattern weiß,
und Mottensterne flickern aus,
die Beere, in den Bach gesenkt,
ein silbern Fischlein zog heraus.

Als die Forelle lag am Strand,
das Feuer facht' zur Flamme ich,
doch etwas raschelte im Sand
und jemand nannt' beim Namen mich:
da stand im Schimmer eine Maid
mit Apfelblüt' im Haar, die ruft,
den Namen mein, und läuft davon
und schwindet durch verklärte Luft.

Obwohl ich alt vom Wandern bin
durch tiefes Land und hohes Land,
ich find heraus, wohin sie ging:
küß' ihre Lippen, nehm' die Hand;
und geh' durch tiefer Wiesen Gras
und pflück, bis Zeiten weh'n davon,
die Silberäpfel ihres Monds,
die gold'nen Äpfel ihrer Sonn.


  • Singable translation from English to German (Deutsch) copyright © 2010 by Walter A. Aue, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you must ask the copyright-holder(s) directly for permission. If you receive no response, you must consider it a refusal.

    Walter A. Aue.  Contact: waue (AT) dal (DOT) ca

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This text was added to the website: 2010-03-26
Line count: 24
Word count: 135