Wenn sanft des Abends
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the German (Deutsch)
Available translation(s): ENG
Bass:
Wenn sanft des Abends reine Purpurröthe
durch zarte Silberblüthen quillt,
Soprano:
wenn durch des Haines schauerliche Öde
tönt der Gesang der süssen Abendflöte,
Both:
dann schwebt um mich dein theures Bild.
Bass:
Wenn frohe Lieder durch die Lüfte schallen,
von Zephirs Blumenhauch gekühlt,
Soprano:
und wenn des Latoniden Flammenstrahlen
sich auf der Quelle reinem Silber malen;
Both:
dann schwebt um mich dein theures Bild.
Bass:
Oft wall' ich trauernd an der Wiesenquelle,
da nichts mein banges Sehnen stillt,
vor meinem Blick zerrinnet Well' auf Welle,
ich schau ein Bildnis in der Spiegelhelle
und dies ist dein geliebtes Bild.
Soprano:
An jedem Orte wähn' ich dich zu sehen,
im Hain im sonnigen Gefild,
im Blumenthal auf lichtumglänzten Höhen
und nimmer will der süsse Wahn verwehen,
den tief im Herzen ruht dein Bild,
ja tief im Herzen ruht dein theures Bild.
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It is 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):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Laura Prichard) , "When the pure purple redness of evening", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Laura Prichard
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2013-01-26
Line count: 29
Word count: 140
When the pure purple redness of evening
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch)
Bass:
When the pure purple redness of evening
streams gently through the delicate silver flowers,
Soprano:
When through the eerie wasteland of the grove
sounds the song of the sweet evening flute,
Both:
Then your precious image floats around me.
Bass:
When merry songs are heard through the skies,
cooled by the flowery touch of zephyrs,
Soprano:
and when the Apollonian flame
paints its source a pure sliver;
Both:
Then your precious image floats around me.
Bass:
I often mourn at the meadow
because nothing satisfies my anxious yearning,
wave after wave melts before my eyes,
I behold an image in the bright mirror,
and it is your precious image.
Soprano:
I imagine you everywhere, in the grove,
in sunny fields,
in the high, light-kissed, flowery meadows,
and never hope to see the sweet delusion,
where your image resides deep in my heart,
yes, deep in my heart rests your precious image.
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2012 by Laura Prichard, (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:
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2013-01-26
Line count: 29
Word count: 152