by Klaus Groth (1819 - 1899)
Translation © by Emily Ezust

Regenlied
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): DUT ENG FRE SPA
Walle, Regen, walle nieder,
Wecke mir die Träume wieder,
Die ich in der Kindheit träumte,
Wenn das Naß im Sande schäumte!

Wenn die matte Sommerschwüle
Lässig stritt mit frischer Kühle,
Und die blanken Blätter tauten,
Und die Saaten dunkler blauten.

Welche Wonne, in dem Fließen
Dann zu stehn mit nackten Füßen,
An dem Grase hin zu streifen
Und den Schaum mit Händen greifen.

Oder mit den heißen Wangen
Kalte Tropfen aufzufangen,
Und den neuerwachten Düften
Seine Kinderbrust zu lüften!

Wie die Kelche, die da troffen,
Stand die Seele atmend offen,
Wie die Blumen, düftetrunken,
In dem Himmelstau versunken.

Schauernd kühlte jeder Tropfen
Tief bis an des Herzens Klopfen,
Und der Schöpfung heilig Weben
Drang bis ins verborgne Leben.

Walle, Regen, walle nieder,
Wecke meine alten Lieder,
Die wir in der Türe sangen,
Wenn die Tropfen draußen klangen!

Möchte ihnen wieder lauschen,
Ihrem süßen, feuchten Rauschen,
Meine Seele sanft betauen
Mit dem frommen Kindergrauen.

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):

  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "Regenlied", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "Rain Song", copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Chant de pluie", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • SPA Spanish (Español) (Elisa Rapado) , "Lied de la lluvia", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 153

Rain Song
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
Pour, rain, pour down,
Awaken again in me those dreams
That I dreamt in childhood,
When the wetness foamed in the sand!

When the dull summer sultriness
Struggled languidly against the fresh coolness,
And the shiny leaves dripped with dew,
And the crops were dyed a deeper blue.

What bliss to stand in the downpour
With naked feet,
To roam in the grass
And seize the foam in one's hands!

Or with one's hot cheeks
To catch the cold drops;
And to the newly-awakened fragrances
To open one's childlike bosom!

Like the flower's chalices that dripped there,
The soul stood breathing openly,
Like the flowers, drunk with fragrance,
Submerged in the dew of the Heavens.

Every drop cooled with a tremor
Deep down to the heart's very beating,
And Creation's holy weaving
Pierced into one's hidden life.

Pour, rain, pour down,
Awaken the old songs
That we used to sing in the doorway
When the raindrops pattered outside!

I would like to listen to them again --
To their sweet, damp rushing --
To gently bedew my soul
With the devout terror I felt as a child.

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Emily Ezust

    Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:

    Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
    from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.


Based on

 

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 185