Attention! Some of this material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.
To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at licenses@email.lieder.example.net
If you wish to reprint translations, please make sure you include the names of the translators in your email. They are below each translation.
Note: You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.
Die Uhr spricht ängstlich mit dem Spinnweb an der Wand, Am Laden reißt der Wind, Meine flackernden Kerzen sind Ganz vertropft und heruntergebrannt, Kein Wein im Glase mehr, Schatten in allen Ecken, Deren lange Finger sich nach mir strecken. Wie in der Kinderzeit Schließ ich die Augen und atme schwer, Angst hält mich kauernd im Stuhl gefangen. Aber keine Mutter kommt mehr, Keine gute, scheltende Magd mehr gegangen, Die mich am Arm nimmt und mir die schreckliche Welt Freundlich entzaubert und neu mit Trost erhellt. Lange bleib ich im Finstern kauern, Höre den Wind im Dach und den knisternden Tod in den Mauern, Höre Sand hinter Tapeten rinnen, Höre den Tod mit frierenden Fingern spinnen, Reiße die Augen auf, will ihn sehen und greifen, Sehe ins Leere und höre ihn fern Aus den spöttischen Lippen leise pfeifen, Taste zum Bett -- schliefe, schliefe so gern! Aber Schlaf ist ein scheuer Vogel geworden, Schwer zu fangen, zu halten, doch leicht zu morden; Pfeifend fährt er, die Stimme voll bittrem Hohn, Sausenden Fluges im zerrenden Winde davon.
Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.
Confirmed with Hermann Hesse, Sämtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Volker Michels, Band 10 Die Gedichte, bearbeitet von Peter Huber, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2002, pages 254-255.
Authorship:
- by Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962), "Angst in der Nacht", written 1918 [author's text checked 2 times against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Fried Walter (1907 - 1996), "Angst in der Nacht", 1977 [ baritone or mezzo-soprano and piano ], from Sechs Gedichte von Hermann Hesse, no. 6 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "Por a la nit", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Fear by night", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Terreur nocturne", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2009-06-17
Line count: 26
Word count: 174
The clock converses anxiously with the spider-web on the wall, The wind tears at the shutters, My flickering candles have All dripped away and burned down, No more wine in the glass, In every corner shadows Whose long fingers reach out for me. As I did in childhood, I close my eyes and breathe heavily, Fear keeps me in my chair, a cowering prisoner. But no mother comes anymore, No good, scolding maid comes along anymore, Who takes me in her arms and kindly breaks the spell Of the horrible world, and brightens it anew with comfort. Long I remain cowering in the darkness, Hearing the wind in the rooftree and crackling death in the walls. I hear the sand running behind the wallpaper, I hear Death spinning with freezing fingers, I wrench open my eyes, want to see and grab him, I look into emptiness and far away I hear him Quietly whistling with scornful lips; I feel my way to my bed -- I would so much like to sleep, sleep! But sleep has become a shy bird, Hard to catch, to hold, but easy to murder; Whistling it goes, its voice full of bitter mockery, With a rushing flight, away in the wrenching wind.
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2016 by Sharon Krebs, (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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in German (Deutsch) by Hermann Hesse (1877 - 1962), "Angst in der Nacht", written 1918
This text was added to the website: 2016-11-25
Line count: 26
Word count: 206