Google Translate presents another German poetry classic. This one is a little ditty you can sing while changing for bed. The original is by Goethe, who first wrote it as a stand-alone piece but eventually assigned it to Gretchen in Faust – she putters around her bedroom complaining that it’s too hot and she feels scared, so, logically, she takes off her clothes and sings a song:
Es war ein König in Thule,
Gar treu bis an das Grab,
Dem sterbend seine Buhle
einen goldnen Becher gab.
Es ging ihm nichts darüber,
Er leert’ ihn jeden Schmaus;
Die Augen gingen ihm über,
So oft er trank daraus.
Und als er kam zu sterben,
Zählt’ er seine Städt’ im Reich,
Gönnt’ alles seinen Erben,
Den Becher nicht zugleich.
Er saß beim Königsmahle,
Die Ritter um ihn her,
Auf hohem Vätersaale,
Dort auf dem Schloß am Meer.
Dort stand der alte Zecher,
Trank letzte Lebensglut,
Und warf den heiligen Becher
Hinunter in die Flut.
Er sah ihn stürzen, trinken
Und sinken tief ins Meer,
die Augen täten ihm sinken,
Trank nie einen Tropfen mehr.
According to Google Translate, she sang:
There was a king in Thule,
True to the grave,
Dying to his dying (It was actually his mistress who died and left him the cup – don’t know how she got eliminated from this line.)
A golden cup.
He did not mind, (Good!)
He empties every feast; (You mean he ate a lot? How is this relevant?)
His eyes went over, (Hmmm…)
As often as he drank from it.
And when he came to die,
If he counted his cities in the kingdom,
Allow his heirs,
Do not take the cup at the same time. (Heirs! How many times have I told you to share!!!!)
He sat at the king’s mall, (Gretchen and her friends spent a lot of time at the king’s mall trying on bodices)
The knights around him,
On high fathers easter, (Wow, actually a “hall”, not Easter. Wonder how that happened.)
There on the castle by the sea.
There stood the old zecher,
Drink the last glow of life,
And cast the holy cup
Down into the flood.
He saw him fall, drink (“him” being the cup)
And sink deep into the sea,
The eyes would sink,
Never drink another drop.
Indeed.
Here’s a translation which I assume is in the public domain since it appears on Wikipedia:
There was a king in Thule,
Was faithful till the grave,
To whom his mistress, dying,
A golden goblet gave.
Nought was to him more precious;
He drained it at every bout;
His eyes with tears ran over,
As oft as he drank thereout.
When came his time of dying,
The towns in his land he told,
Nought else to his heir denying
Except the goblet of gold.
He sat at the royal banquet
With his knights of high degree,
In the lofty hall of his father
In the castle by the sea.
There stood the old carouser,
And drank the last life-glow;
And hurled the hallowed goblet
Into the tide below.
He saw it plunging and filling,
And sinking deep in the sea:
Then fell his eyelids for ever,
And never more drank he!
Now that’s a song you can sing while you put on your nightgown! (Tune, by Schubert, below)