by Johann Baptist Mayrhofer (1787 - 1836)
Translation © by Guy Laffaille

Der Hirt
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): CAT DUT ENG FRE
Du Thurm! zu meinem Leide
Ragst du so hoch empor,
Und mahnest grausam immer
An [sie, die]1 ich verlor.

Sie hängt an einem Andern,
Und wohnt im Weiler dort.
Mein armes Herz verblutet,
Vom schärfsten Pfeil durchbohrt.

In ihren [braunen]2 Augen
War keiner Untreu Spur;
[Aus ihnen sprachen Liebe
Und holde Anmuth]3 nur.

Wohin ich [nun mich]4 wende -
Der Thurm, er folget mir;
O sagt' er, statt der Stunden,
Was mich vernichtet, ihr!

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Gedichte von Johann Mayrhofer. Wien. Bey Friedrich Volke. 1824, page 11.

Note: Schubert received Mayrhofer's texts generally in handwriting; the printed edition of Mayrhofer's poems appeared much later and presents the texts usually in a revised version.

1 Schubert: "das, was"
2 Schubert: "schönen"
3 Schubert: "Ich sah der Liebe Himmel, / Der Anmut Spiegel"
4 Schubert: "mich nun"

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 pastor", copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • DUT Dutch (Nederlands) [singable] (Lau Kanen) , "De herder", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , "The shepherd", copyright ©
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le berger", copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Peter Rastl [Guest Editor]

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2017-08-05 11:52:03
Line count: 16
Word count: 74

Le berger
Language: French (Français)  after the German (Deutsch) 
Toi, la tour ! ma douleur,
Tu la domines de si haut,
Et toujours tu me rappelles cruellement
Ce que j'ai perdu.

Elle est accrochée à un autre,
Et vit dans ce hameau là-bas.
Mon pauvre cœur saigne,
Transpercé par la flèche la plus acérée.

Dans ses beaux yeux
Il n'y avait aucune trace de fausseté,
J'ai vu seulement un amour céleste,
Un miroir de grâce.

Maintenant où que j'aille
La tour me suit ;
Oh, si elle disait à la place des heures
Ce qui me détruit, à elle !

Authorship

  • Translation from German (Deutsch) to French (Français) copyright © 2011 by Guy Laffaille, (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

 

Text added to the website: 2011-10-01 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:04:37
Line count: 16
Word count: 91