Category: Lieder

Die Krähe

Eine Krähe war mit mir
Aus der Stadt gezogen,
Ist bis heute für und für
Um mein Haupt geflogen.

Krähe, wunderliches Tier,
Willst mich nicht verlassen?
Meinst wohl bald als Beute hier
Meinen Leib zu fassen?

Nun, es wird nicht weit mehr gehn
An dem Wanderstabe.
Krähe, lass mich endlich sehn
Treue bis zum Grabe!

Reflecting on this song from Winterreise, I had what I thought was a pretty good insight: namely, that even though the bird in it is a crow, you should translate “Krähe” as “raven” because they have the same number of syllables and the same vowel sounds.

In particular, it totally takes care of this measure:

“Ra-ven,” — that’s perfect.

“Anyway,” I thought, “Who can even tell the difference between a raven and crow?” And then of course I googled “raven vs. crow” and it turns out that in addition to being smaller, crows “like being in human populated areas” and are “more social and audacious” whereas ravens are aloof and cautious. Crows make that high-pitched “caw, caw” sound but ravens make a “low and hoarse” sound. And ravens (“Raben”) are mentioned elsewhere in Winterreise. Presumably the poet had his reasons for choosing one or the other.

So even though my primary motivation for translating this poem was to fit the word “raven” neatly into it, I decided to maintain the original crow. Here is a crow-based version:

As I set off through the snow
Leaving town forever
Round my head there flew a crow
And it leaves me never.

Strange bird, following my way,
Will you not depart?
Surely, you intend to prey
On my broken heart?

Not much longer now, my friend
Till my walk is over,
Crow, be with me at the end,
My one faithful lover.

But then I was out for a drink on New-Year’s-Eve Eve and thought what the heck, let’s do one with a raven too. I jotted down a first draft with a Moscow Mule (thanks go out to my drinking buddy for rhyme suggestions) and refined it this morning. Here you go:

One dark raven came with me
As I left the silent town
Still it keeps me company
Flying round and round.

Raven, strange uncanny thing,
Will you never leave me?
After all my wandering
Will your talons claim me?

Now have patience, soon I’ll lay
Down my staff with one last breath
Raven, only you will stay
Faithful unto death.

Which of my versions do you prefer – raven or crow? Or do you have a better version of your own? If so, paste it in the comments.

Incidentally, when I translate these Lieder I think more about whether they can be sung to the tune than whether they match the number of German syllables. Which means sometimes you’d be singing a one-syllable English word on two notes where the German has a different syllable on each note, and vice versa.

Song:

Poor old Robert Schumann. Was I too hard on him in a previous post? He wrote a lot of good stuff, including a fine setting of Eichendorff’s Waldgespräch:

Waldgespräch means “forest conversation.” But I just did my own translation and I’d like to call it…

Waldgespräch	Meeting in a forest
Es ist schon spät, es wird schon kalt, Was reit’st Du einsam durch den Wald? Der Wald ist lang, Du bist allein, Du schöne Braut! Ich führ dich heim!	The hour is late, the air grows cold, Why ride forsaken through the wood? The wood is long, thou art alone, O lovely maid, I’ll lead thee home!
“Groß ist der Männer Trug und List, Vor Schmerz mein Herz gebrochen ist, Wohl irrt das Waldhorn her und hin, O flieh! Du weißt nicht, wer ich bin.”	“False and deceitful are all men, My heart is rent with bitter pain, The hunting horn has led thee astray, O flee! Thou knowest not my name.”
So reich geschmückt ist Roß und Weib, So wunderschön der junge Leib, Jetzt kenn ich Dich – Gott steh’ mir bei! Du bist die Hexe Loreley.	So richly adorned are lady and steed, So beautiful and young indeed, I know thee now – God be my guide! The witch thou art, the Loreley.
“Du kennst mich wohl – von hohem Stein, Schaut still mein Schloß tief in den Rhein. Es ist schon spät, es wird schon kalt, Kommst nimmermehr aus diesem Wald!”	“Thou know’st me well – my silent keep Looks down into the Rhine so deep. The hour is late, the air grows cold, Shalt never leave this evil wood!”

I could spend paragraphs justifying my choices here, but wouldn’t that be dull? Instead, put your quibbles in the comment box. I know there are some. Every literary translation walks around with a horde of quibbles carrying its train.

On the plus side, this English version should fit the music quite well. The first line of stanza 3 is a little awkward but you can make it work.

In conclusion, here’s an unusual and very pleasant recording of Schumann Lieder where a cello takes the singer’s part. This song starts at 24:29.

 

On Sunday I volunteered to sit in a basement for several hours doing very little. I forgot to bring something to read so I jotted down a couple of Lieder and had a go at translating them. The results, after some fine tuning at home, are below. Both of these could be improved – if you think of good alternatives, pop them in the comment box!

Singability was a priority here, so some choices were based on considerations like which vowels go best with high notes.

First – because it’s finally spring in Wisconsin – Erstes Grün (First Green) by Justinus Kerner (music by Robert Schumann):

Du junges Grün, du frisches Gras! Wie manches Herz durch dich genas, das von des Winters Schnee erkrankt, o wie mein Herz nach dir verlangt!   Schon wächst du aus der Erde Nacht, wie dir mein Aug entgegenlacht! Hier in des Waldes stillem Grund Drück ich dich, Grün, an Herz und Mund.   Wie treibts mich von den Menschen fort! Mein Leid das hebt kein Menschenwort; Nur junges Grün ans Herz gelegt, macht, dass mein Herze stiller schlägt.

O young green shoots, O fresh green grass Hearts turn to you for cure at last, Ailing from winter’s ice and snow, How my heart longed for you to grow!   You break out of the sleeping earth and fill my weary eye with mirth! Silently in the forest glade, Green, let me kiss each leaf and blade.   From men I flee, their words are vain! No human word can heal my pain; With young green things upon my breast Ah, only then my heart can rest.

Then there’s Das verlassene Mägdlein (The abandoned girl) by Eduard Mörike (music by Hugo Wolf). Some imprecise rhymes here, but that’s usually better than rhymes that are too cute, especially when the speaker is this miserable:

Früh, wann die Hähne krähn, eh die Sternlein schwinden, muss ich am Herde stehn, muss Feuer zünden. Schön ist der Flammen Schein, es springen die Funken; ich schaue so darein, in Leid versunken. Plötzlich, da kommt es mir, treuloser Knabe, dass ich die Nacht von dir geträumet habe. Träne auf Träne dann stürzet hernieder; so kommt der Tag heran o ging er wieder!

Up when the rooster crows, ere the stars have faded, now I must light the stove, toiling unaided. Flames cast their golden shine, the sparks leap and glow, lonely I stare and pine, in deepest sorrow. And then, unfaithful boy, then I remember the dream I had of you last night in slumber. Tear after tear I shed, down they flow together; thus dawns the day ahead can’t it be over?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WV3Pnwu19OQ