Skip to main content

Songs

Songs

Schiffers Scheidelied (1827) D910

Schiffers Scheidelied

Die Wogen am Gestade schwellen,
Es klatscht der Wind das Segeltuch
Und murmelt in den weissen Wellen,
Ich höre seinen wilden Spruch.
Es ruft mich fort, es winkt der Kahn,
Vor Ungeduld schaukelnd, auf weite Bahn.
Dort streckt sie sich in öder Ferne,
Du kannst nicht mit, siehst du, mein Kind;
Wie leicht versinken meine Sterne,
Wie leicht erwächst zum Sturm der Wind,
Dann droht in tausend Gestalten der Tod,
Wie trotzt’ ich ihm, wüsst’ ich dich in Not?
O löse deiner Arme Schling
Und löse auch von mir dein Herz!
Weiss ich es denn, ob ich’s vollbringe
Und siegreich kehre heimatwärts?
Die Welle, die jetzt so lockend singt,
Vielleicht ist’s dieselbe, die mich verschlingt.
Noch ist’s in deine Hand gegeben,
Noch gingst du nichts unlösbar ein,
O trenne schnell dein junges Leben
Von meinem ungewissen Sein,
O wolle, o wolle, bevor du musst,
Entsagung ist leichter als Verlust!
O lass mich im Bewusstsein steuern,
Dass ich allein auf Erden bin,
Dann beugt sich vor dem Ungeheuern,
Vorm Unerhörten nicht mein Sinn.
Ich treibe mit dem Entsetzen Spiel
Und stehe plötzlich vielleicht am Ziel.
Denn hoch auf meiner Maste Spitzen
Wird stets dein Bild begeisternd stehn,
Und, angeflammet von den Blitzen,
Mit seinem Glanz den Mut erhöhn.
Der Winde Heulen auch noch so bang,
Übertäubet nicht deiner Stimme Klang.
Und kann ich dich nur sehn und hören,
Dann hat’s mit mir noch keine Not,
Das Leben will ich nicht entbehren,
Und kämpfen werd ich mit dem Tod.
Wie würde mir eine Welt zur Last,
Die Engel so schön, wie dich umfasst?
Auch du sollst nicht mein Bild zerschlagen,
Mit Freundschaftstränen weih es ein,
Es soll in Schmerz- und Freudetagen
Dein Trost und dein Vertrauter sein.
Ja bleibe, wenn mich auch alles verliess,
Mein Freund im heimischen Paradies.
Und spült dann auch die falsche Welle
Mich tot zurück zum Blumenstrand,
So weiss ich doch an lieber Stelle
Noch eine, eine treue Hand,
Der weder Verachtung noch Schmerz es wehrt,
Dass sie meinen Resten ein Grab beschert.

The Sailor's Song of Farewell

The waves surge on the shore,
The wind beats against the canvas
And murmurs amid the white waves;
I hear its wild voice.
It calls me away, and the boat, rocking impatiently,
Bids me embark on a distant course.
That course stretches far across the empty wastes;
You cannot come with me, my child; do you not see
How easily my stars may sink,
How easily the wind may grow to a tempest?
Then death will threaten in a thousand forms.
How could I defy it if I knew you were in peril?
O loose your arms’ embrace
And free your heart of me.
How do I know if I shall triumph
And return home victorious?
The very wave that now sings so enticingly
May be the one that engulfs me.
It still lies in your hands;
You have still not embarked irrevocably.
O sever your young life quickly
From my uncertain existence.
Do it of your own free will, before you have to;
Renunciation is easier than loss.
Let me navigate in the knowledge
That I am alone on this earth,
Then my mind will not flinch
Before terrors, before the unknown.
I shall sport with horrors,
And shall perhaps stand suddenly at my goal.
For your image will always be
High on my mast, inspiring me,
And, illuminated by lightning,
Will raise my spirits with its radiance.
However fearfully the winds howl,
They will never drown the sound of your voice.
And if I can but see and hear you,
I have no other needs;
I shall not be without life,
And shall fight with death.
How could a world ever become a burden to me
Which contains angels as fair as you?
You, too, must not destroy my image;
Consecrate it with tears of friendship.
May it be your comfort and close companion
In times of sorrow and joy.
If all else has deserted me,
You shall remain my friend in this paradise of home.
And if a treacherous wave should then
Wash my dead body back upon the flowery shore,
Then I shall know that at the beloved spot
There will still be one hand
Which neither disdain nor sorrow will prevent
From granting my remains a grave.
Translations by Richard Wigmore first published by Gollancz and reprinted in the Hyperion Schubert Song Edition

If you would like to use our texts and translations, please click here for more information.

Composer

Franz Peter Schubert was an late Classical and early Romantic composer. He produced a vast oeuvre during his short life, composing more the 600 vocal works (largely Lieder), and well as several symphonies, operas, and a large body of piano music. He was uncommonly gifted from a young age, but appreciation of his music was limited during his lifetime. His work became more popular in the decades after his death, and was praised by 19th century composers, including Mendelssohn, Schumann, Brahms, and Liszt.

Information from Wikipedia. Read more here.


See Full Entry

Poet

Franz Adolf Friedrich Schober, since 1801 von Schobe, was an Austrian poet, librettist, lithographer, actor in Breslau and Legationsrat in Weimar.

Schober was born to Austrian parents in Sweden. Educated in the Schnepfenthal Salzmann School, Akademisches Gymnasium (Vienna) and Kremsmünster Abbey, he returned to Vienna, where he began to study philosophy and met the composer Franz Schubert, his friends Johann Mayrhofer, Joseph von Spaun and the painters Leopold Kupelwieser and Moritz von Schwind. Between 1823 and 1825, Schober was an actor at the theatre in Breslau under the pseudonym "Torupson". In the 1840s, Schober was in close contact with Franz Liszt. In 1856 he married the author Thekla von Gumpert; afterwards he lived in Budapest, Munich and Dresden.

Schober wrote lyric poetry and in 1821 the libretto for Schubert's opera Alfonso und Estrella.

Taken from Wikipedia. To view the full article, please click here.


See Full Entry

Sorry, no further description available.

About Oxford Lieder

Oxford Lieder is one of the world's leading promoters of song and the winner of a prestigious Royal Philharmonic Society Award. The focal point of each year is the two-week Oxford Lieder Festival in October.

Find out More

Mailing List