Winterreise

Winterreise
(Winter Journey)
Franz Schubert  (D.911)
Text by Wilhelm Müller.

English Translations copyright Richard Wigmore.

1. Gute Nacht (Good Night)

I arrived a stranger,
a stranger I depart.
May blessed me
with many a bouquet of flowers.
The girl spoke of love,
her mother even of marriage;
now the world is so desolate,
the path concealed beneath snow.

I cannot choose the time
for my journey;
I must find my own way
in this darkness.
A shadow thrown by the moon
is my companion;
and on the white meadows
I seek the tracks of deer.

Why should I tarry longer
and be driven out?
Let stray dogs howl
before their master’s house.
Love delights in wandering –
God made it so –
from one to another.
Beloved, good night!

I will not disturb you as you dream,
it would be a shame to spoil your rest.
You shall not hear my footsteps;
softly, softly the door is closed.
As I pass I write
‘Good night’ on your gate,
so that you might see
that I thought of you.

2. Die Wetterfahne (The Weathervane)

The wind is playing with the weathervane
on my fair sweetheart’s house.
In my delusion I thought
it was whistling to mock the poor fugitive.

He should have noticed it sooner,
this sign fixed upon the house;
then he would never have sought
a faithful woman within that house.

Inside the wind is playing with hearts,
as on the roof, only less loudly.
Why should they care about my grief?
Their child is a rich bride.

3. Gefror’ne Tränen (Frozen Tears)

Frozen drops fall
from my cheeks;
have I, then, not noticed
that I have been weeping?

Ah tears, my tears,
are you so tepid
that you turn to ice,
like the cold morning dew?

And yet you well up, so scaldingly hot,
from your source within my heart,
as if you would melt
all the ice of winter.

4. Erstarrung (Numbness)

In vain I seek
her footprints in the snow,
where she walked on my arm
through the green meadows.

I will kiss the ground
and pierce ice and snow
with my burning tears,
until I see the earth.

Where shall I find a flower?
Where shall I find green grass?
The flowers have died,
the grass looks so pale.

Shall I, then, take
no memento from here?
When my sorrows are stilled
who will speak to me of her?

My heart is as dead,
her image coldly rigid within it;
if my heart ever melts again
her image, too, will flow away.

5. Der Lindenbaum (The Linden Tree)

By the well, before the gate,
stands a linden tree;
in its shade I dreamt
many a sweet dream.

In its bark I carved
many a word of love;
in joy and sorrow
I was ever drawn to it.

Today, too, I had to walk
past it at dead of night;
even in the darkness
I closed my eyes.

And its branches rustled
as if they were calling to me:
‘Come to me, friend,
here you will find rest.’

The cold wind blew
straight into my face,
my hat flew from my head;
I did not turn back.

Now I am many hours’ journey
from that place;
yet I still hear the rustling:
‘There you would find rest.’

6. Wasserflut (Flood)

Many a tear has fallen
from my eyes into the snow;
its cold flakes eagerly suck in
my burning grief.

When the grass is about to shoot forth,
a mild breeze blows;
the ice breaks up into pieces
and the soft snow melts away.

Snow, you know of my longing;
tell me, where does your path lead?
If you but follow my tears
the brook will soon absorb you.

With it you will flow through the town,
in and out of bustling streets;
when you feel my tears glow,
there will be my sweetheart’s house.

7. Auf dem Flusse (On the River)

You who rippled so merrily,
clear, boisterous river,
how still you have become;
you give no parting greeting.

With a hard, rigid crust
you have covered yourself;
you lie cold and motionless,
stretched out in the sand.

On your surface I carve
with a sharp stone
the name of my beloved,
the hour and the day.

The day of our first greeting,
the date I departed.
Around name and figures
a broken ring is entwined.

My heart, do you now recognize
your image in this brook?
Is there not beneath its crust
likewise a seething torrent?

8. Rückblick (Backward Glance)

The soles of my feet are burning,
though I walk on ice and snow;
I do not wish to draw breath again
until I can no longer see the towers.

I tripped on every stone,
such was my hurry to leave the town;
the crows threw snowballs and hailstones
on to my hat from every house.

How differently you received me,
town of inconstancy!
At your shining windows
lark and nightingale sang in rivalry.

The round linden trees blossomed,
the clear fountains plashed brightly,
and, ah, a maiden’s eyes glowed; then,
friend, your fate was sealed.

When that day comes to my mind
I should like to look back once more,
and stumble back
to stand before her house.

9. Irrlicht (Will-o'-the-wisp)

A will-o’-the-wisp enticed me
into the deepest rocky chasms;
how I shall find a way out
does not trouble my mind.

I am used to straying;
every path leads to one goal.
Our joys, our sorrows –
all are a will-o’-the wisp’s game.

Down the dry gullies of the mountain stream
I calmly wend my way;
every river will reach the sea;
every sorrow, too, will reach its grave.

10. Rast (Rest)

Only now, as I lie down to rest,
do I notice how tired I am.
Walking kept me cheerful
on the inhospitable road.

My feet did not seek rest;
it was too cold to stand still.
My back felt no burden;
the storm helped to blow me onwards.

In a charcoal-burner’s cramped cottage I found shelter.
But my limbs cannot rest,
their wounds burn so.

You too, my heart, so wild and daring
in battle and tempest;
in this calm you now feel the stirring of your serpent,
with its fierce sting.

11. Frühlingstraum (Dream of Spring)

I dreamt of bright flowers
that blossom in May;
I dreamt of green meadows
and merry bird-calls.

And when the cocks crowed
my eyes awoke:
it was cold and dark,
ravens cawed from the roof.

But there, on the window panes,
who had painted the leaves?
Are you laughing at the dreamer
who saw flowers in winter?

I dreamt of mutual love,
of a lovely maiden,
of embracing and kissing,
of joy and rapture.

And when the cocks crowed
my heart awoke;
now I sit here alone
and reflect upon my dream.

I close my eyes again,
my heart still beats so warmly.
Leaves on my window, when will you turn green?
When shall I hold my love in my arms?

12. Einsamkeit (Loneliness)

As a dark cloud
drifts through clear skies,
when a faint breeze blows
in the fir-tops;

Thus I go on my way
with weary steps, through
bright, joyful life,
alone, greeted by no one.

Alas, that the air is so calm!
Alas, that the world is so bright!
When storms were still raging
I was not so wretched.

13. Die Post (The Post)

A posthorn sounds from the road.
Why is it that you leap so high,
my heart?

The post brings no letter for you.
Why, then, do you surge so strangely,
my heart?

But yes, the post comes from the town
where I once had a beloved sweetheart,
my heart!

Do you want to peep out
and ask how things are there,
my heart?

14. Der greise Kopf (The Grey Head)

The frost has sprinkled a white sheen
upon my hair:
I thought I was already an old man,
and I rejoiced.

But soon it melted away;
once again I have black hair,
so that I shudder at my youth.
How far it is still to the grave!

Between sunset and the light of morning
many a head has turned grey.
Who will believe it? Mine has not done so
throughout this whole journey.

15. Die Krähe (The Crow)

A crow has come with me
from the town,
and to this day
has been flying ceaselessly about my head.

Crow, you strange creature,
will you not leave me?
Do you intend soon
to seize my body as prey?

Well, I do not have much further to walk
with my staff.
Crow, let me at last see
faithfulness unto the grave.

16. Letzte Hoffnung (Last Hope)

Here and there on the trees
many a colored leaf can still be seen.
I often stand, lost in thought,
before those trees.

I look at one such leaf
and hang my hopes upon it;
if the wind plays with my leaf
I tremble to the depths of my being.

Ah, and if the leaf falls to the ground
my hopes fall with it;
I, too, fall to the ground
and weep on the grave of my hopes.

17. Im Dorfe (In the Village)

Dogs bark, chains rattle;
people sleep in their beds,
dreaming of many a thing they do not possess,
consoling themselves with the good and the bad;

And tomorrow morning all will have vanished.
Well, they have enjoyed their share,
and hope to find on their pillows
what they still have left to savour.

Drive me away with your barking, watchful dogs;
allow me no rest in this hour of sleep!
I am finished with all dreams.
Why should I linger among slumberers?

18. Der stürmische Morgen (The Stormy Morning)

How the storm has torn apart
the grey mantle of the sky!
Tattered clouds fly about
in weary conflict.

And red flames
dart between them.
This is what I call
a morning after my own heart.

My heart sees its own image
painted in the sky.
It is nothing but winter –
winter, cold and savage.

19. Täuschung (Illusion)

A light dances cheerfully before me,
I follow it this way and that;
I follow it gladly, knowing
that it lures the wanderer.

Ah, a man as wretched as I
gladly yields to the beguiling gleam
that reveals to him, beyond ice, night and terror,
a bright, warm house,
and a beloved soul within.
Even mere delusion is a boon to me!

20. Der Wegweiser (The Signpost)

Why do I avoid the roads
that other travelers take,
and seek hidden paths
over the rocky, snow-clad heights?

Yet I have done no wrong,
that I should shun mankind.
What foolish yearning
drives me into the wilderness?

Signposts stand on the roads,
pointing towards the towns;
and I wander on, relentlessly,
restless, and yet seeking rest.

I see a signpost standing
immovable before my eyes;
I must travel a road
from which no man has ever returned.

21. Das Wirtshaus (The Inn)

My journey has brought me
to a graveyard.
Here, I thought to myself,
I will rest for the night.

Green funeral wreaths,
you must be the signs
inviting tired travelers
into the cool inn.

Are all the rooms
in this house taken, then?
I am weary to the point of collapse,
I am fatally wounded.

Pitiless tavern,
do you nonetheless turn me away?
On, then, press onwards,
my trusty staff!

22. Mut (Courage!)

When the snow flies in my face
I shake it off.
When my heart speaks in my breast
I sing loudly and merrily.

I do not hear what it tells me,
I have no ears;
I do not feel what it laments.
Lamenting is for fools.

Cheerfully out into the world,
against wind and storm!
If there is no God on earth,
then we ourselves are gods!

23. Die Nebensonnen (The Mock Suns)

I saw three suns in the sky;
I gazed at them long and intently.
And they, too, stood there so fixedly,
as if unwilling to leave me.

Alas, you are not my suns!
Gaze into other people’s faces!
Yes, not long ago I, too, had three suns;
now the two best have set.

If only the third would follow,
I should feel happier in the dark.

24. Der Leiermann (The Hurdy-Gurdy Player)

There, beyond the village,
stands a hurdy-gurdy player;
with numb fingers
he plays as best he can.

Barefoot on the ice
he totters to and fro,
and his little plate
remains forever empty.

No one wants to listen,
no one looks at him,
and the dogs growl
around the old man.

And he lets everything go on
as it will;
he plays, and his hurdy-gurdy
never stops.

Strange old man,
shall I go with you?
Will you turn your hurdy-gurdy
to my songs?