An einem frühen Morgen, lange vor [Hahnenschrei]1
Wurde ich geweckt durch ein Pfeifen und ging zum Fenster.
Auf meinem Kirschbaum -- Dämmerung füllte den Garten --
Saß ein junger Mann mit geflickter Hose
Und pflückte lustig meine Kirschen. Mich sehend
Nickte er mir zu, mit beiden Händen
[Holte]2 er die Kirschen [von]3 den Zweigen in seine Taschen.
Noch eine ganze Zeitlang, als ich wieder in meiner Bettstatt lag
[Hörte]4 ich ihn sein [lustiges]5 kleines Lied pfeifen.
Available sung texts: (what is this?)
• H. Eisler Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
View original text (without footnotes)
Confirmed with Die Gedichte von Bertolt Brecht in einem Band, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1981 (Neunte Auflage 1997), page 816
1 Eisler: "Morgengraun"
2 Eisler: "Holt"
3 Eisler: "aus"
4 Eisler: "Hört' "
5 Eisler: "lust'ges"
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):
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The cherry thief", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust
[Administrator] , Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 9
Word count: 79
Early one morning, long before [the crowing of the rooster]1,
I was awakened by some whistling and went to the window.
Up in my cherry tree -- twilight filled the garden --
Sat a young man with patched trousers
Gleefully picking my cherries. Seeing me,
He nodded to me; with both hands
He transferred the cherries from the branches to his pockets.
For quite some time yet, as I was again lying in my bed,
I heard him whistling his jolly little tune.