by
Julius Wolff (1834 - 1910)
Ich saß im Wald auf Gras und Moos
Language: German (Deutsch)
Available translation(s): ENG
Ich saß im Wald auf Gras und Moos,
Die Fiedel lag mir auf dem Schoß
Und in den Blumen der Bogen.
Ich war so mutterseelen allein
Und ausgebeutelt obenein,
Und Lieb' und Lust verflogen.
Mir ging da Manches durch den Sinn,
Sacht auf den Saiten fuhren hin
Die Finger mit Knipsen und Klimpern.
Kaum hört' ich's, weil ich Grillen fing,
Weiß Gott! ich glaube gar, es hing
Mir etwas an den Wimpern.
So missemuth zu allem Thun
Stak ich noch nirgend in den Schuh'n
Und bin ein Weitgereister.
Mein Marschalk hieß Herr Ungemach,
Mein Mundschenk Bücke dich zum Bach,
Schmalhans mein Küchenmeister.
Tags drauf beim Wirth zum Rautenkranz
War Hochzeit, Schmaus und Jungferntanz,
Da gab es was zu geigen.
Die Dirnen lachten, kein Krug blieb leer,
Straff ward der Beutel, der Ranzen schwer,
Und die Welt war wieder mein eigen.
About the headline (FAQ)
Confirmed with Julius Wolff, Singuf. Rattenfängerlieder, Erster Band, Berlin: G. Grote'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1898, page 69.
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 (Sharon Krebs) , "Moroseness", copyright © 2020, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2020-09-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 140
Moroseness
Language: English  after the German (Deutsch)
I sat in the woods upon grass and moss,
My fiddle lay in my lap
And my bow in the flowers.
I was so utterly alone
And on top of that I was broke,
And love and joy had flown away.
Many things passed through my mind,
Snapping and strumming, my fingers
Gently moved over the strings.
I hardly heard it owing to my moping,
God knows! I even believe there was
A moistness upon my eyelashes.
I had never felt myself to be
So disinclined to all tasks
And I am well travelled.
My marshal was called Mr. Hardship,
My cup-bearer [was called] Bend-Down-to-the Brook,
My head chef [was called] Empty-Cupboard.
The following day at the Wreath of Rue
There was a wedding, feasting, and bridal dance,
There was plenty of fiddling needed.
The girls laughed, no jug remained empty,
My purse was full, my knapsack heavy,
And the world belonged to me once more.
Translated titles:
"Missemuth" = "Moroseness"
"Missmuth" = "Moroseness"
Authorship:
- Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © 2020 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.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2020-09-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 156