by Wilhelm Busch (1832 - 1908)
Translation © by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947)

Metapheren der Liebe
Language: German (Deutsch) 
Welche Augen, welche Miene!
Seit ich dich zuerst gesehen,
Engel in der Krinoline,
Ist's um meine Ruh' geschehen.

Ach! in fieberhafter Regung
Lauf' ich Tag und Nacht spazieren,
Und ich fühl' es, vor Bewegung
Fang' ich an zu transpirieren.

Und derweil ich eben schwitze,
Hast du kalt mich angeschaut;
Von den Stiefeln bis zur Mütze
Spür' ich eine Gänsehaut.

Wahrlich! Das ist sehr bedenklich,
Wie ein jeder leicht ermißt,
Wenn man so schon etwas kränklich
Und in Nankinghosen ist.

Würde deiner Augen Sonne
Einmal nur mich freundlich grüßen,
Ach! -- vor lauter Lust und Wonne
Schmölz ich hin zu deinen Füßen.

Aber -- ach! -- aus deinen Blicken
Wird ein Strahl herniederwettern,
Mich zerdrücken und zerknicken
Und zu Knochenmehl zerschmettern.

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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 (Gary Bachlund) , "Metaphor of love", written 2010, copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-12-29
Line count: 24
Word count: 117

Metaphor of love
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch) 
What eyes, and what a demeanor!
Since first I saw your heavenly face,
For my crinoline angel I grow keener,
While my former ease has left no trace.

O, by such feverish stirring
Am I driven, both day and night,
And to a roar from a tiny purring
Love begins to perspire aright.

And even as I profusely sweat,
You look upon me coldly;
Yet from my head to toes I get
These goose bumps rising boldly.

Truly! This is so disturbing,
For me who must suffer such floods
To find sweating so deeply perturbing
While out in my fanciest duds.

I would that once, but once your eyes
Would look with friendship on me,
O -- with enthusiasm and wondrous sighs,
Melted at your feet there would I be.

But -- O! -- forth from your blazing eyes
Dart looks that leave me battered,
Each look which squashes and mortifies....
With such bone-breaking looks I am shattered.

Rhymed paraphrase.

Authorship:

Based on:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

    [ None yet in the database ]


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-12-29
Line count: 24
Word count: 155