Evening clouds
Clouds seh I abendwaerts
Completely dipped into purest glow,
Clouds in light zerhaucht completely,
Had so stifling darkened.
Yes! my suspecting heart says to me:
Once still it becomes whether also late,
When the sun comes down,
Me the soul shade clarifies.
poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Der Schmied (The Smith)
Ich hör' meinen Schatz,
Den Hammer er schwinget,
Das rauschet, das klinget,
Das dringt in die Weite
Wie Glockengeläute
Durch Gassen und Platz.
Am schwarzen Kamin,
Da sitzet mein Lieber,
Doch geh' ich vorüber,
Die Bälge dann sausen,
Die Flammen aufbrausen
Und lodern um ihn.
The Smith
I hear my sweetheart,
The hammer he swings,
That whistles, that clangs,
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
Schäfers Sonntagslied
Ich bin so hold den sanften Tagen,
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
Ich bin allein auf weiter Flur;
Noch eine Morgenglocke nur,
Nun Stille nah und fern.
Anbetend knie ich hier.
O süßes Graun! geheimes Wehn!
Als knieten viele ungesehn
Und beteten mit mir.
Der Himmel nah und fern,
Er ist so klar und feierlich,
So ganz, als wollt’ er öffnen sich.
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
This is the Sabbath day!
The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
In the wide field I am alone.
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Three Students
Three students once tarried over the Rhine,
And into Frau Wirthin's turned to dine.
'Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine?
And where is that pretty daughter of thine?'
'My beer and wine is fresh and clear.
My daughter lies on her funeral bier.'
They softly tipped into the room;
She lay there in the silent gloom.
The first the white cloth gently raised,
And tearfully upon her gazed.
'If thou wert alive, O, lovely maid,
My heart at thy feet would to-day be laid!'
The second covered her face again,
And turned away with grief and pain.
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Frühlingsglaube (Faith In Spring)
Die linden Lüfte sind erwacht,
Sie säuseln und wehen Tag und Nacht,
Sie schaffen an allen Enden.
O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang!
Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang!
Nun muß sich alles, alles wenden.
Die Welt wird schöner mit jedem Tag,
Man weiß nicht, was noch werden mag,
Das Blühen will nicht enden.
Es blüht das fernste, tiefste Tal:
Nun, armes Herz, vergiß der Qual!
Nun muß sich alles, alles wenden.
Faith In Spring
The gentle winds are awakened,
They murmur and waft day and night,
They create in every corner.
Oh fresh scent, oh new sound!
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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The Castle By The Sea
'Hast thou seen that lordly castle,
That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it
The clouds float gorgeously.
'And fain it would stoop downward
To the mirrored wave below;
And fain it would soar upward
In the evening's crimson glow.'
'Well have I seen that castle,
That Castle by the Sea,
And the moon above it standing,
And the mist rise solemnly.'
'The winds and the waves of ocean,
Had they a merry chime?
Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers,
The harp and the minstrel's rhyme?'
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Ich Hatt' Einen Kameraden (I Had A Comrade)
Ich hatt' einen Kameraden,
Einen bessern findst du nit.
Die Trommel schlug zum Streite,
Er ging an meiner Seite
In gleichem Schritt und Tritt.
Eine Kugel kam geflogen:
Gilt's mir oder gilt es dir?
Ihn hat es weggerissen,
Er liegt vor meinen Füßen
Als wär's ein Stück von mir
Will mir die Hand noch reichen,
Derweil ich eben lad'.
'Kann dir die Hand nicht geben,
Bleib du im ew'gen Leben
Mein guter Kamerad!
I Had a Comrade
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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The Black Knight
'T was Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness,
When woods and fields put off all sadness.
Thus began the King and spake:
'So from the halls
Of ancient hofburg's walls,
A luxuriant Spring shall break.'
Drums and trumpets echo loudly,
Wave the crimson banners proudly,
From balcony the King looked on;
In the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,
Before the monarch's stalwart son.
To the barrier of the fight
Rode at last a sable Knight.
'Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, say!'
'Should I speak it here,
Ye would stand aghast with fear;
I am a Prince of mighty sway!'
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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The Luck Of Edenhall
Of Edenhall, the youthful Lord
Bids sound the festal trumpet's call;
He rises at the banquet board,
And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all,
'Now bring me the Luck of Edenhall!'
The butler hears the words with pain,
The house's oldest seneschal,
Takes slow from its silken cloth again
The drinking-glass of crystal tall;
They call it The Luck of Edenhall.
Then said the Lord: 'This glass to praise,
Fill with red wine from Portugal!'
The graybeard with trembling hand obeys;
A purple light shines over all,
It beams from the Luck of Edenhall.
Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light:
'This glass of flashing crystal tall
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poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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