La courte paille | The short straw
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Christina Thanisch-Smith, May 6, 2022, 20:00
La courte paille | The short Who’ll believe me, if they hear me?
straw The little elephants casually
© Translations by Marion Leeds Carroll Licked at a jar of jam,
(web.mit.edu) But the flea didn’t care;
She pulled along, smiling.
My God! My God!
I. Le sommeil | Sleep How hard this is!
And I think I must be crazy!
Sleep is on vacation
My God! Where has it gone? Suddenly, near a fence,
I’ve rocked my little one in vain; The flea blew over in the wind,
He cries in his crib, And I saw the young elephant
He’s been crying since noon. Save himself by knocking down the walls.
Where has sleep put My God! My God!
Its sand and its wise dreams? It’s really true,
I’ve rocked my little one in vain; But how can I tell Mommy?
He turns, all sweaty, he sobs in his bed.
Ah! Return, return, sleep,
On your beautiful racehorse! III. La reine de cœur | The Queen of
In the black sky, the Big Bear * Hearts
Has buried the sun
And re-lit the bees. ** Softly leaning
If the baby doesn’t sleep well, On her window-panes of moon,
He won’t say “good morning,” The queen gestures to you
He won’t say anything tomorrow With an almond flower.
To his fingers, to the milk, to the bread She is the Queen of Hearts.
That greet him with the day. She can, if she wishes,
* The Big Dipper / ** The Milky Way Lead you in secret into strange dwellings
Where there are no more doors,
Or rooms, or towers,
II. Quelle aventure! | What an adventure! And where the young dead come to talk of
love.
A flea was pulling a little elephant
Along in its carriage, The queen salutes you;
While looking at the shop windows Hasten to follow her
Where the diamonds sparkled. Into her hoar-frost castle
My God! My God! With smooth stained-glass moon windows.
What an adventure!
1Christina Thanisch-Smith, May 6, 2022, 20:00
IV. Ba, Be, Bi, Bo, Bu Soprano voice of the carafe
And play it for Merlin.
Ba, be, bi, bo, bu, bé! “Very well,” he said, “very well!”
The cat has put on his boots; He clapped his hands three times –
He goes from door to door, And the lady of the house
Playing, dancing, dancing, singing – Still asks herself why
Pou, chou, genou, hibou. She found, that morning,
“You ought to learn to read, A pretty little baby carafe
To count, to write,” Leaning up against the carafe
Everyone calls out to him, Just as in the zoo, the baby giraffe
But rikketikketau, Leans its long and fragile neck
The cat bursts out laughing, Against the smooth flank of the giraffe.
Returning to his castle:
He is Puss in Boots!
VII. Lune d’Avril | April moon
V. Les anges musiciens | The musician Moon, beautiful moon, moon of April,
angles Make me see in my dreams
The peach tree with a heart of saffron,
Upon the treads of the rain The fish that laughs at sleet,
The Thursday angels The bird that, far away, like a horn,
Play on the harp for a long time Sweetly wakens the dead
And beneath their fingers, Mozart And above all, above all, the country
Tinkles, deliciously, Where there is joy, where it is bright,
In drops of blue joy Where, sunny with springtime,
Since it is always Mozart The have broken all the rifles.
Which is played englessly Moon, beautiful moon, moon of April,
By the musician angels Moon…
Who, all day Thursday
Make their harps sing
The sweetness of the rain.
VI. Le carafon | The baby carafe
“Why,” lamented the carafe,
“Couldn’t I have a baby carafe?
At the zoo, Mrs. Giraffe –
Doesn’t she have a baby giraffe?”
A wizard who was riding by
Astride the phonograph
Recorded the beautiful
2Christina Thanisch-Smith, May 6, 2022, 20:00
Liederkreis, op. 39 | Song My heart is broken with grief,
The hunting horn echoes here and there,
cycle, op. 39 O flee, you do not know who I am.”
© Translations by Richard Stokes
(Bärenreiter) “So richly adorned are steed and lady,
So wondrous fair her youthful form;
Now I know you, may God protect me!
I. In der Fremde | In a foreign land You are the enchantress, Lorelei!”
From my homeland, beyond the red “You know me well, from its towering rock
lightning, My castle looks deep and silent down into the
The clouds come drifting in. Rhine;
But father and mother have long been dead, It is already late, already cold,
Now no one knows me there. You shall never leave this forest again!”
How soon, ah! How soon till the quiet time,
When I too shall rest IV. Die Stille | Silence
Beneath the sweet murmur of lonely woods,
Forgotten here as well. No one knows and no one can guess
How happy I am, how happy!
If only one, just one man knew,
II. Intermezzo | Intermezzo No one else ever should.
I bear your beautiful likeness The snow outside is not so silent,
Deep within my heart, Nor are the stars on high
It gazes at me every hour So still and silent
So freshly and happily. As my own thoughts.
My heart sings softly to itself I wish I were a little bird,
An old and beautiful song And could fly across the sea,
That soars into the sky Across the sea and further,
And swiftly wings its way to you. Until I was in heaven.
III. Waldesgespräch | A forest dialogue V. Mondnacht | Moonlit Night
“It is already late, already cold, It was as though Heaven
Why ride lonely through the forest? Had softly kissed the earth,
The forest is long, you are alone, So that she in a gleam of blossom
You lovely bride, I’ll lead you home!” Had now to dream of him.
“Great is the deceit and cunning of men, The breeze passed through the fields,
3Christina Thanisch-Smith, May 6, 2022, 20:00
The corn swayed gently to and fro, All have gone down to the valley,
The forests murmured softly, Forest birds sing lonely songs
The night was so clear with stars. In the empty window-arches.
And my soul spread Down there on the sunlit Rhine
Its wings out wide, A wedding party’s sailing by,
Flew across the silent land, Musicians strike up merrily,
As though flying home. And the lovely bride – weeps.
VI. Schöne Fremde | A beautiful foreign VIII. In der Fremde | In a foreign land
land
I hear the brooklets murmuring
The tree-tops rustle and shudder. Through the forest, here and there,
As if at this very hour In the forest, in the murmuring
The ancient gods I do not know where I am.
Were pacing these half-sunken walls.
Nightingales are singing
Here beyond the myrtle trees Here in the solitude,
In secretly twilit splendour, As though they wished to tell
What are you telling me, fantastic night, Of lovey days now past!
Obscurely, as in a dream!
The moonlight flickers,
The glittering stars gaze down on me, As though I saw below me
Fierily and full of love, The castle in the valley,
The distant horizon speaks with rapture Yet it lies so far from here!
Of some great happiness to come!
As though in the garden,
Full of roses, white and red,
VII. Auf einer Burg | In a castle My love was waiting for me,
Yet she died so long ago.
Up there at his look-out
The old knight has fallen asleep,
Rainstorms pass overhead, IX. Wehmut | Sadness
And the wood stirs through the portcullis.
True, I can sometimes sing
Beard and hair matted together, As though I were content;
Ruff and breast turned to stone, But secretly tears well up,
For centuries he’s sat up there And my heart is set free.
In his silent cell.
Nightingales, when spring breezes
Outside it’s quiet and peaceful, Play outside, sing
4Christina Thanisch-Smith, May 6, 2022, 20:00
Their song of longing Only the forest still sighs from the
From their dungeon cell. mountains,
And deep in my heart I quiver with fear.
Then all hearts listen
And everyone rejoices,
Yet no one feels the pain, XII. Frühlingsnacht | Spring night
The deep sorrow in the song.
Over the garden through the air
I heard birds of passage fly,
X. Zwielicht | Twilight A sign that spring is in the air,
Flowers already bloom below.
Dusk is about to spread its wings,
The trees now shudder and stir, I could shout for joy, could weep,
Clouds drift by like oppressive dreams, For it seems to me it cannot be!
What can this dusk and dread imply? All the old wonders come flooding back,
Gleaming in the moonlight.
If you have a fawn you favour,
Do not let her graze alone, And the moon and stars say it,
Hunters sound their horns through the forest, And the dreaming forest whispers it,
Voices wander to and fro. And the nightingales sing it:
“She is yours, is yours!”
If here on earth you have a friend,
Do you trust him at this hour,
Though his eyes and lips be smiling,
In treacherous peace he’s scheming war.
That which wearily sets today,
Will rise tomorrow, newly born.
Much can go lost in the night,
Be wary, watchful, on your guard!
XI. Im Walde | In the forest
A wedding wound across the mountain,
I heard the warbling of birds,
Riders flashed by, hunting horns blared,
That was a merry chase!
And before I knew, all had faded.
The night covers the land;
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