Franz Schubert

Winterreise

 

Based on the poetry of Wilhelm Müller

Translations by Richard Wigmore

1. Gutenacht / Goodnight

I arrived a stranger,

a stranger I depart.

May blessed me

with many a bouquet of flowers.

The girl spoke of love,

her mother even of marriage—

now the world is so desolate,

the path concealed beneath snow.

I cannot choose the time

for my journey;

I must find my own way

in this darkness.

A shadow thrown by the moon

is my companion;

and on the white meadows

I seek the tracks of deer.

Why should I tarry longer

and be driven out?

Let stray dogs howl

before their master’s house.

Love delights in wandering—

God made it so—

from one to another,

beloved, good night!

I will not disturb you as you dream,

it would be a shame to spoil your rest,

you shall not hear my footsteps;

softly, softly the door is closed.

As I pass, I write

‘Good night’ on your gate,

so that you might see

that I thought of you.

2. Die Wetterfahne / The Weather Vane

The wind is playing with the weathervane

on my fair sweetheart’s house.

In my delusion I thought

it was whistling to mock the poor fugitive.

He should have noticed it sooner,

this sign fixed upon the house;

then he would never have sought

a faithful woman within that house. Wind is playing with hearts,

as on the roof, only less loudly.

Why should they care about my grief?

Their child is a rich bride.

3. Gefor’ne Tränen / Frozen Tears

Frozen drops fall

from my cheeks;

have I, then, not noticed

that I have been weeping?

Ah tears, my tears,

are you so tepid

that you turn to ice,

like the cold morning dew?

And yet you well up, so scaldingly hot,

from your source within my heart,

as if you would melt

all the ice of winter.

4. Erstarrung / Frozen rigidity

In vain I seek

her footprints in the snow,

where she walked on my arm

through the green meadows.

I will kiss the ground,

and pierce ice and snow

with my burning tears,

until I see the earth.

Where shall I find a flower,

where shall I find green grass?

The flowers have died,

the grass looks so pale.

Shall I, then, take

no memento from here?

When my sorrows are stilled,

who will speak to me of her?

My heart is as if dead,

her image coldly rigid within it;

if my heart ever melts again

her image too will flow away.

5. Der Lindenbaum / The Linden Tree

By the fountain at the gate

stands a linden tree,

in whose shade I dreamt

so many a sweet dream.

In whose bark I carved

so many a word of love;

in joy and sorrow I was drawn

to it again and again.

 

Today, too, I had to pass it,

at dead of night,

and though it was dark

I closed my eyes.

And its boughs rustled,

as if calling me:

‘Come to me, friend,

here you will find rest.’

The cold wind blew

straight into my face,

my hat flew from my head,

I did not turn back.

Now I am many hours’ journey

from that place,

Yet I still hear the rustling:

‘There you would find rest.’

6. Wasserflut / Flood

Many a tear has fallen

from my eyes into the snow;

its cold flakes eagerly suck in

my burning grief.

When the grass is about to shoot forth,

a mild breeze blows;

the ice breaks up into pieces

and the soft snow melts away.

 

Snow, you know of my longing;

tell me, where does your path lead?

If you but follow my tears

the brook will soon absorb you.

With it you will flow through the town,

in and out of bustling streets;

when you feel my tears glow,

there will be my sweetheart’s house.

7. Auf dem Fluss / On the river

You who rippled so merrily,

clear, boisterous stream,

how still you have become,

you offer no parting greeting.

With a hard, rigid crust

you have covered yourself.

You lie cold and motionless

stretched out in the sand.

On your surface I carve

with a sharp stone

the name of my beloved

and the hour and the day:

The day of our first meeting,

the day I departed,

around name and numbers

a broken ring is entwined.

My heart, in this brook

do you recognize your own image?

Is there, under your surface, too,

a surging torrent?

8. Rückblick / A backward glance

The soles of my feet are burning,

though I walk on ice and snow;

I do not wish to draw breath again

until I can no longer see the towers.

I tripped on every stone,

such was my hurry to leave the town;

the crows threw snowballs and hailstones on to my hat from every house.

How differently you received me,

town of inconstancy!

At your shining windows

lark and nightingale sang in rivalry.

The round linden trees blossomed,

the clear fountains splashed brightly,

and ah, a maiden’s eyes glowed!—

 

Then, friend, your fate was sealed!

When that day comes to my mind

I should like to look back once more,

and stumble back

to stand before her house.

9. Irrlicht / Will O’the wisp

A will-o’-the-wisp enticed me

into the deepest rocky chasms;

how I shall find a way out

does not trouble my mind.

I am used to straying,

every path leads to one goal:

our joys, our sorrows

all are a will-o’-the-wisp’s game.

Down the dry gullies of the mountain stream

I calmly wend my way;

every river will reach the sea,

every sorrow, too, will reach its grave.

10. Rast / Rest

Only now, as I lie down to rest,

do I notice how tired I am;

walking kept me cheerful

on the inhospitable road.

 

My feet did not seek rest,

it was too cold to stand still;

my back felt no burden,

the storm helped to blow me onwards.

In a charcoal-burner’s cramped cottage

I found shelter;

but my limbs cannot rest,

their wounds burn so.

 

You too, my heart, so wild and daring

in battle and tempest;

in this calm you now feel your serpent stirring,

with its fierce sting!

11. Frühlingstraum / Dream of Spring

I dreamt of bright flowers

that blossomed in May;

I dreamt of green meadows

and merry bird-calls.

And when the cock crowed

my eyes awoke;

it was cold and dark,

ravens cawed from the roof.

But there, on the window panes,

who had painted the leaves?

Are you laughing at the dreamer

who saw flowers in winter?

I dreamt of mutual love,

of a lovely maiden,

of embracing and kissing,

of joy and rapture.

And when the cocks crowed

my heart awoke;

now I sit here alone

and reflect upon my dream.

I close my eyes again,

my heart still beats so warmly.

Leaves on my window, when will you turn green?

When shall I hold my love in my arms?

12. Einsamkeit / Loneliness

As a dark cloud

drifts through clear skies,

when a faint breeze

blows in the fir-tops:

Thus I go on my way,

with weary steps, through

bright, joyful life,

alone, greeted by no one.

Alas, that the air is so calm!

Alas, that the world is so bright!

When the storms were still raging,

I was not so wretched.

13. Die Post / The Post

A post-horn sounds from the road.

Why is it that you leap so high,

my heart?

The post brings no letter for you.

Why, then, do you surge so strangely,

my heart?

But yes, the post comes from the town

where I once had a beloved sweetheart,

my heart!

Do you want to peep out

and ask how things are there,

my heart?

14. Der greise Kopf / The Hoary Head

The frost has sprinkled a white sheen

upon my hair.

I thought I was already an old man,

and I rejoiced.

But soon it melted away;

once again I have black hair,

so that I shudder at my youth—

how far it still is to the grave!

Between sunset and the light of morning

many a head has turned gray.

Who will believe it? Mine has not

throughout this whole journey.

15. Die Krähe / The Crow

A crow has come with me

from the town,

and to this day 

has been flying ceaselessly about my head.

Crow, you strange creature,

will you not leave me?

Do you intend soon

to seize my body as prey?

Well, I do not have much further

to walk with my staff.

Crow, let me at last see

faithfulness unto the grave!

16. Hoffnung / Last Hope

Here and there on the trees

many a coloured leaf can still be seen.

I often stand, lost in thought,

before those trees.

I look at one such leaf

and hang my hopes upon it;

if the wind plays with my leaf

I tremble to the depths of my being.

Ah, and if the leaf falls to the ground

my hopes fall with it;

I, too, fall to the ground

and weep on the grave of my hopes.

17. Im Dorfe / In the Village

Dogs bark, chains rattle;

people sleep in their beds,

dreaming of many a thing they do not possess,

consoling themselves with the good and the bad;

And tomorrow morning all will have

vanished. Well, they have enjoyed their share

and hope to find on their pillows

what they still have left to savour.

Drive me away with your barking, watchful dogs,

allow me no rest in this hour of sleep!

I am finished with all dreams.

Why should I linger among slumberers?

18. Der stürmische Morgen / Stormy Morning

How the storm has torn apart

the grey mantle of the sky!

Tattered clouds fly about

in weary conflict.

And red flames dart between them.

This is what I call

a morning after my own heart!

My heart sees its own image

painted in the sky—

it is nothing but winter,

winter, cold and savage.

19. Täuschung / Delusion

A light dances cheerfully before me,

I follow it this way and that;

I follow it gladly,

knowing that it lures the wanderer.

 

Ah, a man as wretched as I

gladly yields to the beguiling gleam

revealing, beyond ice, night and terror,

a bright, warm house,

and a beloved soul within—

even mere illusion is a boon to me!

20. Der Wegweiser / The signpost

Why do I avoid the ways

that other wanderers tread,

and seek out hidden paths

over snowy, rocky heights?

 

For I have done no wrong

that I should shun men—

what foolish craving

drives me into the wilderness?

 

Signposts stand on the roads,

pointing towards towns,

and I wander on and on

restless, and yet seeking rest.

 

I see a signpost standing,

immovable, before my eyes;

I must travel a road

from which no man has ever returned.

21. Das Wirsthaus / The Inn

My journey has brought me

to a graveyard.

Here, I thought to myself:

I will rest for the night.

 

Green funeral wreaths,

you must be the signs

inviting tired travellers

into the cool inn.

 

Are all the rooms

in this house taken, then?

I am weary to the point of collapse,

I am fatally wounded.

 

Pitiless tavern,

do you nonetheless turn me away?

On, then, press onwards,

my trusty walking stick!

22. Mut / Courage

When the snow flies in my face,

I shake it off.

When my heart speaks in my breast,

I sing loudly and merrily.

I do not hear what it tells me,

I have no ears;

I do not feel what it laments,

lamenting is for fools.

Cheerfully out into the world,

against wind and storm!

If there is no God on earth,

then we ourselves are gods!

23. Die Nebensonnen / Phantom suns 

I saw three suns in the sky;

I gazed at them long and intently;

and they, too, stood there so fixedly,

as if unwilling to leave me.

Alas, you are not my suns!

Gaze into other people’s faces!

Yes, not long ago I, too, had three suns;

now the two best have set.

If only the third would follow,

I should feel happier in the dark.

24. DerLeiermann / The hurdy-gurdy man

There, beyond the village,

stands a hurdy-gurdy player;

with numb fingers

he plays as best he can.

Barefoot on the ice

he totters to and fro,

and his little plate

remains forever empty.

No one wants to listen,

no one looks at him,

and the dogs growl

around the old man.

And he lets everything go on

as it will,

he plays, and his hurdy-gurdy

never stops.

Strange old man,

shall I go with you?

Will you turn your hurdy-gurdy

to my songs?