An Frau Nannette Falk-Auerbach.

Als du im Saal mit deiner himmlischen Kunst
Beethoven zeigst, und seinem Willen nach
Mit den zehn Fingern fuehrst der Leute Gunst,
Zehn Zungen sagen was der Meister sprach.
Schauend dich an, ich seh', dass nicht allein
Du sitzest: jetzt herab die Toene ziehn
Beethovens Geist: er steht bei dir, ganz rein:
Fuer dich mit Vaters Stolz sein' Augen gluehn:
Er sagt, "Ich hoerte dich aus Himmelsluft,
Die kommt ja naeher, wo ein Kuenstler spielt:
Mein Kind (ich sagte) mich zur Erde ruft:
Ja, weil mein Arm kein Kind im Leben hielt,
Gott hat mir dich nach meinem Tod gegeben,
Nannette, Tochter! dich, mein zweites Leben!"


Baltimore, 1878.

Sidney Lanier

Sidney Lanier, born February 3, 1842, in Macon, Georgia, was an American musician, poet, and author. He was known for his musical and poetic works that embodied the natural beauty and culture of the American South. Lanier fought in the American Civil War, an experience that deeply influenced his later works. He is celebrated for his technical mastery and innovative use of meter and musicality in poetry. Lanier passed away on September 7, 1881, in Lynn, North Carolina.

Sidney Lanier

A Birthday Song. To S. G.

Sidney Lanier, Simple Poetry

My Springs.

Sidney Lanier, Simple Poetry

The Wedding.

Sidney Lanier, Simple Poetry

To Wilhelmina.

Sidney Lanier, Simple Poetry

German

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To Nannette Falk-Auerbach.

Oft as I hear thee, wrapt in heavenly art,
The massive message of Beethoven tell
With thy ten fingers to the people's heart
As if ten tongues told news of heaven and hell, -
Gazing on thee, I mark that not alone,
Ah, not alone, thou sittest: there, by thee,
Beethoven's self, dear living lord of tone,
Doth stand and smile upon thy mastery.
Full fain and fatherly his great eyes glow:
He says, "From Heaven, my child, I heard thee call
(For, where an artist plays, the sky is low):
Yea, since my lonesome life did lack love's all,
In death, God gives me thee: thus, quit of pain,
Daughter, Nannette! in thee I live again."


Baltimore, 1878.

Sidney Lanier

Am Rhein. - No. II. Im Kahn

Were diu werlt alle min,
Von deme mere unze an den Rin.
Des wolt ih mih darben,
Daz diu dame von Engellant
Lege an minen armen.
- Carmina Burana.


Am Rhein! Acain am Rheine!
In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
Ash ve go sailin long.

Und von fair Englisch dame
Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Veneer der Breitmann saw her,
Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
Boot more like fallin tears.

Und shpecdagles were oer dem,
De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
Less dey pe sh...

Charles Godfrey Leland

Love Song

O vere mine lofe a sugar-powl,
De fery shmallest loomp
Vouldt shveet de seas, from pole to pole,
Und make de shildren shoomp.
Und if she vere a clofer-field,
Id bet my only pence,
It vouldnt pe no dime at all
Pefore Id shoomp de fence.

Her heafenly foice, it drill me so,
It oft-dimes seems to hoort,
She ish de holiest anamile
Dat roons oopon de dirt.
De renpow rises vhen she sings,
De sonnshine vhen she dalk;
De angels crow und flop deir vings
Vhen she goes out to valk.

So livin white, so carnadine,
Mine lofes gomblexion show;
Its shoost like Abendcarmosine,
Rich gleamin on de shnow.
Her soul makes plushes in her sheek
Ash sommer reds de wein,
Or sonnlight sends a fire life troo
An blank Karfunkelstein.
...

Charles Godfrey Leland

Am Rhein. - No. III. (Index) - Nonnenwerth.

He shtood peside de Kloster-place,
Oopon de Rheinisch shore,
Und dere he saw a lofely face,
Hed seen in treams pefore.

Feinslieb, und willst dou go mit me?
Feinsllieb, make no delay;
For rocks ish shdeep und vales ish teep,
Und dings ish in de way.

Und oh! how can I go mit dir,
Or flyen out of land?
Der bischof holts me py de law,
Der Rheingraf by der hand.

Liebsherz, if dou couldst landwarts gehn,
Id follow willingly;
Boot we are leafs, und shdrongs de shdem
Vitch pinds oos to de dree.

Der briest who helt dee py de law
Ish now a broken man;
Der Rheingraf who vouldt marry dee
Ish in der Kaisars ban.

Und if de Kloster-beoples here
Vill shdop your goin to town,
Bei Gott! Ill burn von half ...

Charles Godfrey Leland

To Lina.

Should these songs, love, as they fleet,

Chance again to reach thy hand,
At the piano take thy seat,

Where thy friend was wont to stand!

Sweep with finger bold the string,

Then the book one moment see:
But read not! do nought but sing!

And each page thine own will be!

Ah, what grief the song imparts

With its letters, black on white,
That, when breath'd by thee, our hearts

Now can break and now delight!

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Breitmanns Last Ballads Dornenlieder

I.

For efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
Dey say dere comes a dorn.
Boot let dem say yoost vot dey will,
Dis ding I will soopose,
Ill immer prick mein finger still,
If I may pfluck die Ros.
Ach, Rosalein, du schöne mein,
Dot man vas nefer born
Vot did deserfe to win de Rose,
Vot couldt not stand de Dorn.

Blutfärbig ist die schöne Ros,
Und dot ist yoost a sign
Dot I moost lose a liddle Blut
To make de Rosé mein.
Wer Rosen bricht die Finger sticht;
Das ist mir ganz égal,
Der bricht sie auch in Winter nicht,
Und kits no Rose at all.
Was wir hier treiben und kosen, love,
De joy or misery,
Soll bleiben unter der Rosen, love!
Und our own secret pe!
<...

Charles Godfrey Leland