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

The splendour falls on castle walls
Language: English 
Available translation(s): 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):

  • 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]

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:51
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

 

Text added to the website: 2013-05-26 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:12
Line count: 18
Word count: 137