And lo! Doch da bist du entgegen mir gekommen, Und ach! The Sphinx Die Sphinx This is the old enchanted wood, Sweet lime trees scent the wind The glamor of the moon has cast A spell upon my mind. Onward I walk, and, as I walk— Hark to that high, soft strain! That is the nightingale, she sings, Of love and of love's pain. Das ist die Nachtigall, sie singt Von Lieb' und Liebeswehe. She sings of love and of love's pain, Of laughter and of tears. So plaintive his carol, so joyous her sobs, I dream of forgotten years. Onward I walk, and as I walk, There stands before mine eyes A castle proud on an open lawn, Whose gables high uprise.
With casements closed, and everywhere Sad silence in court and halls, It seemed as though mute death abode Within those barren walls. Before the doorway crouched a sphinx, Half horror and half grace; With a lion's body,a lion's claws, And a woman's breast and face. A woman fair! The marble glance Spake wild desire and guile.
The silent lips were proudly curled In a a confident, glad smile. The nightingale, she sang so sweet, I yielded to her tone. I touched, I kissed the lovely face, And lo, I was undone! The marble image stirred with life, The stone began to move; She drank my fiery kisses' glow With panting thirsty love. She well nigh drank my breath away; And, lustful still for more, Embraced me, and my shrinking flesh With lion claws she tore.
Oh, rapturous martyrdom! Oh, infinite anguish and bliss! With her horrible talons she wounded me, While she thrilled my soul with a kiss. The nightingale sang: "Oh beautiful sphinx, Oh love! That thou minglest still the pangs of death With thy most peculiar bliss?
O Liebe! Thou beautiful Sphinx, oh solve for me This riddle of joy and tears! I have pondered it over again and again, How many thousand years! George resembles. When she raised them, lo! Pressing hands and whispering passion, These twain wander in the moonlight, Gently doth the breeze caress them, The enchanted roses greet them. The enchanted roses greet them, And they glow like Love's own heralds. From the almond-trees dropped downward Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms. Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms Shed around them fragrant odors. Aber sage mir Geliebte, Ist dein Herz mir ganz gewogen?
Far off waved, as in a vision, Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight. Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight Seemed to watch the stars above them. Aber sage mir Geliebte, Hast du auch nicht falsch geschworen? Then towards a grove of myrtles Leads he the Alcalde's daughter. And with Love's slight subtile meshes, He has trapped her and entangled. Brief their words, but long their kisses, For their hearts are overflowing.
What a melting bridal carol Sings the nightingale, the pure one.
9 Lieder and Songs, Op (Brahms, Johannes) - IMSLP: Free Sheet Music PDF Download
How the fire-flies in the grasses Trip their sparkling torchlight dances! In the grove the silence deepens, Naught is heard save furtive rustling Of the swaying myrtle branches, And the breathing of the flowers. But the sound of drum and trumpet Burst forth sudden from the castle. Rudely they awaken Clara, Pillowed on her lover's bosom. But before we part, oh tell me, Tell me what thy precious name is, Which so closely thou hast hidden.
Donna Clara! Hotly-loved through years of passion! Thou hast wrought me mine undoing, And hast wrought it without mercy! Hast beschlossen mein Verderben, Und beschlossen ohn Erbarmen.
Still the gift of life is pleasant. But beneath the earth 'tis frightful, In the grave so cold and darksome. Aber unten ist es grausig, In dem dunkeln, kalten Grabe. Laugh, be merry, For to-morrow shall Fernando Greet thee at the nuptial altar, Wilt thou bid me to the wedding? Don Ramiro! Very bitter sounds thy language, Bitterer than the stars' decrees are, Which bemock my heart's desire. Cast aside thy gloomy temper. In the world are many maidens, But us twain the Lord hath parted. Yes, I swear it.
I am coming. I will dance with thee the measure, Now good-night! I come to-morrow.
Du, du liegst mir im Herzen
Will mit dir den Reihen tanzen; — Gute Nacht, ich komme morgen. Long he stood a stony statue, Then amidst the darkness vanished. Seufzend stand Ramiro unten, Stand noch lange wie versteinert; Endlich schwand er fort im Dunkeln. After long and weary struggling, Night must yield unto the daylight. Like a many-colored garden, Lies the city of Toledo. Palaces and stately fabrics Shimmer in the morning sunshine. And the lofty domes of churches Glitter as with gold incrusted. Humming like a swarm of insects, Ring the bells their festal carol. With sweet tones the sacred anthem From each house of God ascendeth.
But behold, behold! Aber dorten, siehe! Gallant knights and noble ladies, In their holiday apparal; While the pealing bells ring clearly, And the deep-voiced organ murmurs.
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But a reverential passage In the people's midst is opened, For the richly-clad young couple, Donna Clara, Don Fernando. To the bridegroom's palace-threshhold, Wind the waving throngs of people; There the wedding feast beginneth, Pompous in the olden fashion.
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Knightly games and open table, Interspersed with joyous laughter, Quickly flying, speed the hours, Till the night again hath fallen. And the wedding-guests assemble For the dance within the palace, And their many-colored raiment Glitters in the light of tapers.