by
Alfred Mombert (1872 - 1942)
Warm die Lüfte
Language: German (Deutsch)
Our translations: ENG FRE ITA NOR
Warm die Lüfte,
es sprießt Gras auf sonnigen Wiesen.
Horch!--
Horch, es flötet die Nachtigall...
Ich will singen:
Droben hoch im düstern Bergforst,
es schmilzt und [sickert]1 kalter Schnee,
ein Mädchen im grauen Kleide
lehnt am feuchten Eichstamm,
krank sind ihre zarten Wangen,
die grauen Augen fiebern
durch Düsterriesenstämme.
"Er kommt noch nicht. Er läßt mich warten"...
Stirb!
Der Eine stirbt, daneben der Andere lebt:
Das macht die Welt so tiefschön.
Available sung texts: (what is this?)
• A. Berg
About the headline (FAQ)
View original text (without footnotes)
Confirmed with Alfred Mombert, Dichtungen, Gedicht-Werke, ed. Elisabeth Herberg, Erster Band, München: Kösel-Verlag von J. Hörning, 1963, pages 108-109
1 one source gives "glitzert"
Text 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):
- ENG English (Jakob Kellner) , "Warm the breezes", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "L'air est doux", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Tiepide brezze", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- NOR Norwegian (Bokmål) (Marianne Beate Kielland) , copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Jakob Kellner , Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 71
Warm the breezes
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch)
Warm are the breezes;
Grass grows in sunny meadows,
Listen!
Listen, there pipes the nightingale...
I will sing:
High up there in dusky mountain forests,
Cold snow melts and oozes;
A maiden in a grey dress
leans against a damp oaktree;
Her cheeks are ill,
The grey eyes burn
Through the dusky, giant tree trunks.
"He doesn't come yet. He's making me wait"...
Die!
The one dies while the other lives:
That makes the world so deeply beautiful.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Jakob Kellner, (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:
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 78