# Your favorite classical music texts



## SiegendesLicht (Mar 4, 2012)

What are your favorite lieder lyrics, vocal symphony texts, oratorio excerpts, operatic libretto phrases etc.? Please post the poetry pertaining to classical music, that you enjoy the most - with translation if it is in a foreign language. Just do not post an entire opera libretto - a link would suffice in this case.


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## Pugg (Aug 8, 2014)

SiegendesLicht said:


> What are your favorite lieder lyrics, vocal symphony texts, oratorio excerpts, operatic libretto phrases etc.? Please post the poetry pertaining to classical music, that you enjoy the most - with translation if it is in a foreign language. Just do not post an entire opera libretto - a link would suffice in this case.


With all respect, we do have some kind of thread like this : Melody off the day.


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## Dim7 (Apr 24, 2009)

Pugg said:


> With all respect, we do have some kind of thread like this : Melody off the day.


Erm, you don't know the difference between melody and lyrics?


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## Huilunsoittaja (Apr 6, 2010)

The Snow Maiden libretto by Aleksandr Ostrovsky, used by both Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakov. Beautiful poetry.


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## Friendlyneighbourhood (Oct 8, 2016)

Dim7 said:


> Erm, you don't know the difference between melody and lyrics?


Even I know the difference, I'm completely musically illiterate!


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## Triplets (Sep 4, 2014)

SiegendesLicht said:


> What are your favorite lieder lyrics, vocal symphony texts, oratorio excerpts, operatic libretto phrases etc.? Please post the poetry pertaining to classical music, that you enjoy the most - with translation if it is in a foreign language. Just do not post an entire opera libretto - a link would suffice in this case.


PDQ Bach once released a play by play analysis of Beethoven's 5th Symphony, First Movement. Priceless


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## Avey (Mar 5, 2013)

_Eternal burning bliss,
Glowing bond of Love,
Seething pain of the heart,
Foaming (sparkling) joy of God.
Arrows, pierce me,
Lances, subdue me,
Clubs, beat me down,
Lightning thunder through me!
That now the vain and void
May vanish for ever
Shine forth the enduring star,
Eternal Love's centre_*

*translations of course differ slightly


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## Pugg (Aug 8, 2014)

Dim7 said:


> Erm, you don't know the difference between melody and lyrics?


If you are that choosy , you see what happening, almost no response.


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## Klavierspieler (Jul 16, 2011)

Eduard Mörike: _Wo find' ich Trost?_ set by Hugo Wolf:

Eine Liebe kenn ich, die ist treu, 
War getreu, solang ich sie gefunden,
Hat mit tiefem Seufzen immer neu,
Stets versöhnlich, sich mit mir verbunden.

Welcher einst mit himmlischem Gedulden
Bitter bittern Todestropfen trank,
Hing am Kreuz und büßte mein Verschulden,
Bis es in ein Meer von Gnade sank.

Und was ist's nun, daß ich traurig bin,
Daß ich angstvoll mich am Boden winde?
Frage: Hüter, ist die Nacht bald hin?
Und: was rettet mich von Tod und Sünde?

Arges Herze! Ja gesteh' es nur,
Du hast wieder böse Lust empfangen;
Frommer Liebe, frommer Treue Spur,
Ach, das ist auf lange nun vergangen.

Ja, daß ist's auch, daß ich traurig bin,
Daß ich angstvoll mich am Boden winde!
Hüter, Hüter, ist die Nacht bald hin?
Und was rettet mich von Tod und Sünde?

Und auf Englisch:

One love I know that is faithful,
That has been faithful through all the time since I found it,
That with deep sighs has ever anew,
Always forgivingly, allied itself to me.

He, who once with heavenly patience,
Drank the bitter, bitter drops of death,
Hung upon the cross and atoned for my transgression
Until it sank into a sea of mercy.

And what is happening now, why I am sad?
Why do I anxiously writhe upon the ground?
Asking: Watchman, is the night soon over?
And: What shall rescue me from death and sin?

Erring heart! Yes, only admit it,
You have again conceived evil passions;
Pious love, the track of pious faithfulness,
Ah, those have been gone for a long while now.

Yes, that is why then that I am saddened,
That I anxiously writhe upon the ground!
Watchman, watchman is the night soon over?
And what shall rescue me from death and sin?


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## Casebearer (Jan 19, 2016)

Cantata profana by Béla Bartók (translated into English):

*The Splendid Stags*

There was once an old man

treasuring, treasuring

nine sons, splendid offspring,

blooms of his proud manhood,

splendid offspring, nine sons.

And he failed to teach them

skills to earn a living

from the land and livestock:

ploughing, sowing, reaping,

horse and cattle breeding.

He brought up his children

for the savage mountains,

trained them in hunting skills.

And roaming through mountains and valleys,

they spent their time hunting,

the nine sons, splendid offspring,

they spent their time hunting -

So long did they wander,

wander and hunt the deer,

so far, so long, till they,

they found a graceful bridge

showing magic deertracks.

They pursued the magic

till they lost their bearings;

and the splendid hunters

thus became the hunted:

turned to stags, the splendid offspring

in the forest thicket.

But their father grew impatient

waiting, waiting, waiting,

and he loaded his old rifle

and set out on a search

for his splendid offspring.

Thus he found the graceful footbridge,

on the bridge he found the deertracks,

magic tracks that led the old man

to a clean spring in the forest

where the splendid stags were grazing.

Carefully kneeling, silent

(Hey!) the man raised his rifle.

But a splendid stag, the largest,

oh, the very dearest offspring,

gravely spoke to his old parent:

Our beloved father,

do not raise your rifle!

Our antlers will gore you,

our antlers impale you

and throw you and hurl you -

from streams to hilltops,

from peaks to valleys,

from rocks to clearings -

We shall smash your body

on a dreadful rockface,

treat you with no mercy,

our beloved father!

And their loving father

thus addressed his offspring

and thus he called them

with sweet words begging them to go back:

Oh, my sweet, beloved,

my beloved offspring,

come home, come home with me,

come back from the forest

to your loving mother!

Come with me, come with me,

come back to your mother!

Eagerly, your mother

waits for you, cries for you.

All is ready for you,

torches, cups and table,

ready for your welcome.

Goblets on the table,

your mother suffering -

goblets full of wine but

grief has filled her household.

All is ready for you,

torches, cups and table,

ready for your welcome...

But the stag, the largest,

dearest of the offspring,

gravely gave his father

this address in answer:

Our beloved father,

go home from the forest,

go back to our loving mother -

but we shall remain!

But we shall remain:

look at our antlers,

wider than your doorway,

they must travel through the sky;

our slender bodies

cannot hide in clothing,

they must hide among the leaves;

we must make our tracks not

in your hearth's warm ashes

but along the forest floor;

we must drink our fill not

from your silver goblets

but from cold mountain springs.

There was once an old man

treasuring, treasuring

nine sons, splendid offspring.

And he failed to teach them

skills to earn a living,

instead he brought them up,

trained them in hunting skills.

And hunting, searching

in the forest thicket,

one day the splendid sons

turned into splendid stags.

Look at their antlers,

wider than your doorway,

they must travel through the sky;

their slender bodies

cannot hide in clothing,

they must hide among the leaves;

they make their tracks not

in your hearth's warm ashes

but along the forest floor;

they drink their fill not

from your silver goblets

but from clean mountain springs.


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