(1813)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 die Qual! Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden. Ludwig Uhland (1787-1862) |
(1813)The gentle breezes are awakened, They whisper and waft day and night. They create at all ends. Oh fresh scent, oh new sound! Now, poor heart, don’t be scared! Now everything, everything must change. The world grows more beautiful every day, One does not know, what may yet come, The blooming does not want to end. The remotest, deepest valley blooms: Now, poor heart, forget the pain! Now everything, everything must change. Literal translation by Edith LaGraziana 2014 |
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Monday, 31 March 2014
Poetry Revisited: Frühlingsglaube – Faith in Spring
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Poetry Revisited
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