Summer morning | The sound of the bell calls to mass

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by Gall Morel, Pater (1803 - 1872)

Translation © by Sharon Krebs

Sommermorgen

Language: German (Deutsch)

Our translations: ENG

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Zur Mette ruft der Glocke Ton,
  Im Wald die Vöglein singen;
Die junge Sonne nahet schon,
  Den Tag heraufzubringen.
O Morgenhauch, so frisch und rein, 
Dich athmen alle Blumen ein!

Der Brunnen rauscht voll Lebenssaft,
  Der Mäher wetzt das Eisen,
Die Lerche singt mit neuer Kraft
  In ätherblauen Kreisen --
Und mich ergreift es sanft und still,
Ich weiß nicht was es werden will.

Die Welt so groß und ich so klein!
  Mein Morgen längst vorüber!
Ich hoffte so beglückt zu sein,
  Nun wird es immer trüber.
Der jungen Tage Lenzesglück
Bringt uns kein Sommer mehr zurück.

Confirmed with Gedichte von Pater Gall Morel. Zweite Sammlung, Einsiedeln und New York: Druck und Verlag von Gebr. Karl und Nikolaus Benziger, 1859, page 226.

Text Authorship:

by Gall Morel, Pater (1803 - 1872), "Sommermorgen", appears in Gedichte. Zweite Sammlung, in Vermischte Gedichte [author's text checked 1 time 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 Ferdinand Kamm (1845 - 1897), "Sommermorgen", published 1877 [ men's chorus a cappella ], from Neue Gesänge für den Männerchor, no. 5, St. Gallen, Huber & Co [sung text not yet checked]
by Ferdinand Kamm (1845 - 1897), "Sommermorgen", published 1880 [ men's chorus ], from Neue Gesänge für den Männerchor, Heft 1, no. 6, St. Gallen, Zürich: Hug [sung text not yet checked]

Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2026-07-21
Line count: 18
Word count: 96

Summer morning

Language: English after the German (Deutsch)

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The sound of the bell calls to mass,
  The birdlets sing in the forest;
The young sun is already nearing
  To bring forth the day.
Oh breath of morning, so fresh and pure,
All the flowers are breathing you in!

The water-spring rushes, full of the juice of life,
  The reaper sharpens his steel,
The lark sings with a new energy
  In aethereal blue circles --
And I am softly and quietly moved,
I know not what shall be.

The world so large and I so small!
  My morning is long past!
I had hoped to be so gladdened,
  And now it grows ever more dreary.
No summer can return to us
The springtime happiness of youthful days.

Text Authorship:

Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2026 by Sharon Krebs, (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 Gall Morel, Pater (1803 - 1872), "Sommermorgen", appears in Gedichte. Zweite Sammlung, in Vermischte Gedichte
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2026-08-20
Line count: 18
Word count: 117