Friday, December 21, 2007
O Tannenbaum
O Tannenbaum was originally a song of unrequited love by August Zarnack (tr. James Robertson):
Caspar David Friedrich, Winter Landscape (1811)
The tune for O Tannenbaum is a traditional one sung to many different lyrics, including the German student song Lauriger Horatius (tr. John Addington Symonds):
Newer› ‹Older
O evergreen, O evergreen,Ernst Anschütz kept Zarnack's first stanza, but replaced the others to make the lyrics of the familiar Christmas carol (tr. unknown):
how true is all thy leafage!
Nor only green in summer's glow,
But in December's frost and snow;
O evergreen, O evergreen,
how true is all thy leafage!
O little maid, O little maid,
how false is all thy favour!
When Fortune smiled,—thy vow to make!
Now I am poor,—thy vow to break!
O little maid, O little maid,
how false is all thy favour!
The nightingale, the nightingale,
'tis she thou sure dost follow!
Will wait, while laughs the summer gay,—
When falls the year, will fly away;—
The nightingale, the nightingale,
'tis she thou sure dost follow!
The valley-brook, the valley-brook,
is of thy guile the mirror!
Runs only when the rain doth pour,—
When all are thirsting, runs no more;—
The valley-brook, the valley-brook,
is of thy guile the mirror!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
Du grünst nicht nur zur Sommerzeit,
Nein auch im Winter, wenn es schneit.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
O Mägdelein, o Mägdelein,
Wie falsch ist dein Gemüte!
Du schwurst mir Treu in meinem Glück,
Nun arm ich bin, gehst du zurück.
O Mägdelein, o Mägdelein,
Wie falsch ist dein Gemüte!
Die Nachtigall, die Nachtigall,
Nahmst du dir zum Exempel.
Sie bleibt so lang der Sommer lacht,
Im Herbst sie sich von dannen macht.
Die Nachtigall, die Nachtigall,
Nahmst du dir zum Exempel.
Der Bach im Thal, der Der Bach im Thal
Ist deiner Falschheit Spiegel.
Er strömt allein, wenn Regen fließt,
Bei Dürr er bald den Quell verschließt.
Der Bach im Thal, der Bach im Thal
Ist deiner Falschheit Spiegel.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How steadfast are your branches!
Your boughs are green in summer's clime
And through the snows of wintertime.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How steadfast are your branches!
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
What happiness befalls me,
When oft at joyous Christmas-time,
Your form inspires my song and rhyme.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
What happiness befalls me.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
Your boughs can teach a lesson
That constant faith and hope sublime
Lend strength and comfort through all time.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
Your boughs can teach a lesson.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
Du grünst nicht nur zur Sommerzeit,
Nein auch im Winter, wenn es schneit.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Du kannst mir sehr gefallen.
Wie oft hat schon zur Winterszeit
Ein Baum von dir mich hoch erfreut.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Du kannst mir sehr gefallen!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Dein Kleid will mich was lehren:
Die Hoffnung und Beständigkeit
Gibt Trost und Kraft zu jeder Zeit.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum,
Dein Kleid will mich was lehren.
The tune for O Tannenbaum is a traditional one sung to many different lyrics, including the German student song Lauriger Horatius (tr. John Addington Symonds):
Laurel-crowned Horatius,No precise saying of Horace can be found to match the words of Lauriger Horatius, but the sentiment of the poem is certainly Horatian.
True, how true thy saying!
Swift as wind flies over us
Time, devouring, slaying.
Where are, oh! those goblets full
Of wine honey-laden,
Strifes and loves and bountiful
Lips of ruddy maiden?
Grows the young grape tenderly,
And the maid is growing;
But the thirsty poet, see,
Years on him are snowing!
What's the use on hoary curls
Of the bays undying,
If we may not kiss the girls,
Drink while time's a-flying?
Lauriger Horatius,
Quam dixisti verum!
Fugit Euro citius
Tempus edax rerum.
Ubi sunt, O pocula,
Dulciora melle,
Rixae, pax, et oscula
Rubentis puellae?
Crescit uva molliter,
Et puella crescit,
Sed poeta turpiter
Sitiens canescit.
Quid iuvat aeternitas
Nominis, amare
Nisi terrae filias
Licet, et potare?
