Der zürnende Barde
Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: CAT DUT ENG FRE ITA
Wer wagt's, wer wagt's, wer wagt's,
Wer will mir die Leier zerbrechen,
Noch tagt's, noch tagt's, noch tagt's,
Noch glühet die Kraft, mich zu rächen.
Heran, heran, ihr alle,
Wer immer sich erkühnt,
Aus dunkler Felsenhalle
Ist mir die Leier [ergrünt]1.
Ich habe das Holz gespalten
Aus riesigem Eichenbaum,
Worunter einst die Alten
Umtanzten Wodans Saum.
Die Saiten raubt ich der Sonne,
Den purpurnen, glühenden Strahl,
Als einst sie in seliger Wonne
Versankt in das blühende Tal.
Aus alter Ahnen Eichen,
Aus rotem Abendgold
Wirst Leier du nimmer weichen,
So lang die Götter mir hold.
Available sung texts: (what is this?)
• F. Schubert View original text (without footnotes)
1 Schubert: "gegrünt"
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) , "El bard enutjat", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "De toornige bard", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Malcolm Wren) , "The enraged bard", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le barde en colère", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Il bardo infuriato", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Peter Rastl
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 95
The enraged bard
Language: English after the German (Deutsch)
Who dares, who dares, who dares,
Who wants to shatter my lyre,
It is still daylight, it is still daylight, it is still daylight,
The strength is still glowing to allow me to take revenge.
Come on, come on, all of you,
Whoever wants to make so bold,
Out of the dark rocky cliffs
My lyre flourished for me.
I split the wood
Out of a giant oak tree,
Under which the ancients used to
Dance around Wotan's hem.
I stole the strings from the sun,
The crimson, glowing beam,
When in blissful ecstasy it used to
Sink into the blossoming valley.
Made from the oak of our ancient ancestors,
Made from the red gold of evening,
Lyre, you will never lose your power
As long as the gods look favourably on me.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2019 by Malcolm Wren, (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: 2019-09-20
Line count: 20
Word count: 133