Die Loreley (Friedrich Silcher): Difference between revisions
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==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
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<poem> | |||
I know not what spell is enchanting, | |||
That makes me sadly inclined, | |||
An old strange legend is haunting, | |||
And will not leave my mind; | |||
The daylight slowly is going, | |||
And calmly flows the Rhine, | |||
The mountain's peak is glowing, | |||
In evening's mellow shine. | |||
The fairest maid is reclining, | |||
In dazzling beauty there, | |||
Her gilded raiment is shining, | |||
She combs her golden hair; | |||
With golden comb she's combing, | |||
And as she combs she sings, | |||
Her song amidst the gloaming, | |||
A weird enchantment brings. | |||
The boatman in his bosom, | |||
Feels painful longings stir, | |||
He sees not danger before him, | |||
But gazes up at her; | |||
The waters sure must swallow, | |||
The boat and him ere long, | |||
And thus is seen the power, | |||
Of cruel Loreley's song. | |||
</poem> | |||
{{DEFAULTSORT:Loreley, The (Friedrich Silcher)}} | {{DEFAULTSORT:Loreley, The (Friedrich Silcher)}} | ||
[[Category:Sheet music|Loreley]] | [[Category:Sheet music|Loreley]] | ||
[[Category:Romantic music|Loreley]] | [[Category:Romantic music|Loreley]] | ||
Revision as of 11:19, 30 March 2009
Music files
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File details |
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Help |
- CPDL #6909:
PDF, MIDI and LilyPond files available.
- Editor: Stan Sanderson (submitted 2004-04-08). Score information: 1 page Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes:
General Information
Title: The Loreley
Composer: Friedrich Silcher
Lyricist: Heinrich Heine
Number of voices: 1v Voicing: Soprano solo
Genre: Secular, Folksong
Language: English
Instruments: Piano
Published:
Description:
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
I know not what spell is enchanting,
That makes me sadly inclined,
An old strange legend is haunting,
And will not leave my mind;
The daylight slowly is going,
And calmly flows the Rhine,
The mountain's peak is glowing,
In evening's mellow shine.
The fairest maid is reclining,
In dazzling beauty there,
Her gilded raiment is shining,
She combs her golden hair;
With golden comb she's combing,
And as she combs she sings,
Her song amidst the gloaming,
A weird enchantment brings.
The boatman in his bosom,
Feels painful longings stir,
He sees not danger before him,
But gazes up at her;
The waters sure must swallow,
The boat and him ere long,
And thus is seen the power,
Of cruel Loreley's song.