by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892)
Translation Pablo Sabat

The splendour falls on castle walls
Language: English 
Available translation(s): CAT FRE NYN SPA
The splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long [light]1 shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory:
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
[Blow, bugle]2; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
[Blow, bugle;]2 answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
[And]2 [answer, echoes]3, dying, dying, dying.

F. Delius sets stanzas 1-2

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Britten: "night"
2 Britten: "Bugle, blow"; Holst: "Blow, bugle, blow"
3 Holst: "echoes, answer"

Authorship:

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

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Jean-Pierre Granger) , "Nocturne", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • NYN Norwegian (Nynorsk) (Are Frode Søholt) , "Nattstemning", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • SPA Spanish (Español) (Pablo Sabat) , "Nocturno"


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 18
Word count: 127

Nocturno
Language: Spanish (Español)  after the English 
El resplandor cae sobre los muros del castillo
Y las antiguas cimas nevadas:
Las largas y claras ondas a través de los lagos,
Y la catarata furiosa salta en su gloria:
Sopla, trompa, sopla, haz volar los salvajes ecos,
Respondan, ecos, muriendo, muriendo, muriendo.

O atiendan, oh, escuchen cuán ligeros y claros,
Y más delgados y más claros se alejan!
Oh dulce y lejano, desde monte y precipicio
Las trompas del país de los elfos débilmente soplan!
Sopla, déjanos oír los valles púrpura replicar;
Sopla, trompa, respondan, ecos, muriendo, muriendo, muriendo.

O amor, ellos mueren allá en el majestuoso cielo,
Se desvanecen en colina, campo o arroyo:
Nuestros ecos van de un alma a otra
Y crecen por siempre y para siempre.
Sopla, trompa, sopla, echa a volar los salvajes ecos,
Y respondan, ecos, muriendo, muriendo, muriendo.

The translator has released this translation into the public domain.

Authorship:

  • Translation from English to Spanish (Español) by Pablo Sabat

Based on:

 

This text was added to the website: 2013-05-26
Line count: 18
Word count: 137