Selected Songs for Solo Voice and Piano

Robert Schumann

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9780486242026
• eBook ISBN: 9780486171357
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Classical Music

The year 1840 proved a momentous one for Robert Schumann: after an interval of twelve years, he resumed writing songs, producing some 150 vocal compositions within the year; and in September, after a long and stormy courtship, he married his beloved Clara Wieck. During this period, Schumann’s biographers represent him as being “caught in a tempest of song,” transfiguring the emotions aroused by his love for Clara into a splendid outpouring of sublime music for voice and piano.
Much of that music is reproduced in this collection — comprising over 100 of Schumann’s greatest lieder. Selections include:
Liederkreis (Heine), Op. 24
Liederkreis (Eichendorff), Op. 39
Myrthen, Op. 25
Zwölf Gedichte von Justinus Kerner, Op. 35
Sechs Gedichte von Reinick, Op. 36
Frauenliebe und Leben, Op. 42
Dichterliebe, Op. 48
Individual Songs (17)
In his work, Schumann embodied a tradition of German musical romanticism, emphasizing self-expression, lyricism, and extra-musical (e.g., literary) association. Thus we find here songs

set to the poetry of Heine, Goethe, Burns, Byron, Moore, J. von Eichendorff, Adelbert von Chamisso, Emanuel Geibel, and others. Those who would know Schumann’s work most intimately will be especially interested in Myrthen, a 26-song cycle (liederkreis) dedicated “to his beloved bride.” Of these songs Schumann remarked, “… the Myrthen certainly allow a deeper insight into my inner musical workings.” Of the songs in general, Grove’s Dictionary offers this comment: “… the songs are not only piano pieces with another dimension, an additional tone-color; they are explicit, whereas the piano pieces are reserved. The lyrical element is set free and its emotional content made precise.”
Complementing the music, this volume contains alphabetical listings of song titles, song openings and poets, and a glossary of German musical terms. New translations of the song texts have been specially prepared for this edition. The music has been reproduced directly from the authoritative Breitkopf and Härtel edition of 1882-87, edited by Clara Schumann.
As a composer of art songs, Schumann ranks among the greatest masters; this inexpensive collection makes the songs widely available to students, singers, musicians — any admirer of romanticism made manifest in exquisite matchings of words and music.

TRANSLATIONS

Liederkreis [Song Cycle], Op. 24

Texts by Heine; composed 1840; dedicated to Pauline Garcia

1. Every morning I get up and ask: “Will my sweetheart come today?” Every evening I drop into bed and lament: “She stayed away today too, today too.” During the night I lie sleepless with my troubles, I lie awake; dreaming as if in a half-doze, dreaming I go about during the day.

2. I am in a state of constant agitation! Only a few more hours and I will see her, her herself, the loveliest of lovely maidens. My poor heart, why do you beat so hard? The hours are a lazy crew, aren’t they?! They drag themselves along at a comfortable, slow pace; they creep along their paths with a yawn. Get a move on, you lazy crew! I’m gripped by a frenzy of impatience that gives me no peace! But probably the Horae [Greco-Roman personifications of the hours] were never in love, never, the Horae were never in love; secretly joined in a cruel conspiracy, they maliciously mock at lovers’ haste.

3. I was walking beneath the trees, alone with my sorrow, when my old dream returned and stole into my heart. Who taught you to sing that, you birds, way up in the treetops? Be quiet! If my heart hears it, then it will hurt again. “A maiden came by who sang it uninterruptedly, so we birds took up the beautiful, golden song.” You shouldn’t tell me that, you wondrously sly birds; you want to steal my heartache from me, but I trust nobody, but I trust nobody.

4. My dearly beloved, place your tender hand on my heart. Ah, do you hear how it throbs within its tiny chamber? A carpenter dwells there, evil and spiteful, who is making a coffin for me. The hammering and knocking go on day and night; for a long time now I haven’t been able to sleep because of it. Oh, hurry, master carpenter, so that I may soon be able to sleep.

5. Beautiful cradle of my sorrows, beautiful tombstone of my repose, beautiful city, we must part; I bid you farewell. Farewell, farewell! Farewell, sacred threshold where my sweetheart walks; farewell, sacred place where I first saw her. Farewell, farewell. I wish I had never seen you, beautiful queen of my heart; then I would never, never have become so miserable. I never wanted to touch your heart, I never implored your love; all I wanted was to lead a quiet life within reach of your sweet breath, within reach of your sweet breath. But you yourself are driving me away from here; your lips speak bitter words; madness rages in my mind and my heart is sick and sore. And my limbs, weary and numbed, I drag along, I drag them along, propped on my pilgrim’s staff, until I lay down my tired head far from here in a cold grave. Beautiful cradle of my sorrows, beautiful tombstone of my repose, beautiful city, we must part—farewell, farewell!

6. Wait, wait, impetuous seaman! At once I will follow you to the harbor, at once, at once, at once! I am taking leave of two maidens: Europe and her. Stream of blood, pour out of my eyes; stream of blood, burst forth from my body, so that I can write down my woes in my own hot blood. Oh, my darling, why is it that today you are afraid to see my blood when for long years you watched me stand before you pale and with a bleeding heart?! Oh! Do you recall the old song about the serpent in Paradise that with its evil gift of an apple drove our ancestor into misery? All unhappiness has been brought by apples! Eve brought us death with one, Eris brought the burning of Troy—and you, you brought both: flames and death.

7. Hills and castles look down into the mirror-bright Rhine, and my boat sails merrily with sunshine all around it, with sunshine all around it.

Calmly I observe the play of golden waves, curling and stirring; silently the feelings awaken that I had hidden deep in my heart, that I had hidden deep in my heart.

The splendor of the river, with friendly greetings and promises, lures me on; but I know the river: its surface gleams, but down below it brings death and night, down below it brings death and night.

Pleasure on the outside, malice in your bosom: river, you are the image of my sweetheart! She too can beckon in that friendly way, she too smiles so submissively and gently, she too smiles so submissively and gently.

8. At the outset I nearly wanted to give up, and I thought I could never bear it; and yet I have borne it—but please don’t ask me how, don’t ask me how.

9. With myrtles and roses, lovely and fair, with fragrant cypresses and tinsel I would like to adorn this book like a coffin and bury my poems in it. Oh, if I could only bury love as well! On the grave of love grows the flower of repose; it blossoms forth there, ready for the picking; but it will bloom for me only when I myself am in the grave, when I myself am in the grave. Here now are the poems that once burst forth from the depths of my spirit as impetuously as a lava stream pouring out of Etna, scattering many flashing sparks all about them. Now they lie mute as if in death; now they grow rigid, cold and pale as mist. But the old fire will reanimate them if the spirit of love once more hovers over them, but the old fire will reanimate them if the spirit of love once more hovers over them. And a premonition speaks within my heart that the spirit of love will once more drop down like dew upon them; some day this book will fall into your hands, you dearly loved one, you dearly loved one in a far-off land. Then the spell cast upon my poems will be broken and the pale letters will look at you; they will look imploringly into your beautiful eyes and whisper with melancholy and the breath of love.

Myrthen [Myrtles], Op. 25

Composed 1840; dedicated “To his beloved bride”

1. Widmung [Dedication; text by Rückert]

You my soul, you my heart, you my rapture, O you my pain, you my world in which I live, you my heaven in which I soa-O you my grave in which I have eternally buried my sorrow! You are repose, you are peace, you were granted to me by heaven. Your loving me gives me value in my own eyes, your gaze has transfigured me in my own mind; by loving, you raise me above myself, my good angel, my better self! You my soul, you my heart, you my rapture, O you my pain, you my world in which I live, you my heaven in which I soar, my good angel, my better self!

2. Freisinn [Liberty; text by Goethe, from the Westöstlicher Divan]

Just let me show what I can do in the saddle! You can stay in your huts and tents! And I ride joyously into the boundless distance, with only the stars above my cap. He has placed the heavenly bodies as a guide for you on land and sea, for you to take pleasure in, continually peering upward. Just let me show what I can do in the saddle! You can stay in your huts and tents! And I ride joyously into the boundless distance, with only the stars above my cap.

3. Der Nussbaum [The Walnut Tree; text by Mosen]

A walnut tree grows green in front of the house; fragrantly, airily it spreads its leafy branches out. Many delightful blossoms are on them; mild breezes come to embrace them lovingly. They whisper together, paired off in twos, nodding and gracefully bending their little heads for a kiss. They are whispering about a maiden who thinks all night and day and, alas, doesn’t know herself what her thoughts are about. They whisper, they whisper—who can understand such a quiet melody?—they whisper about a bridegroom and the coming year, about the coming year. The maiden listens, the tree rustles; longingly, full of fancies, she sinks smilingly off into sleep and dreams.

4. Jemand [Someone; German adaptation from Burns by Gerhard]¹

My heart is troubled; I don’t speak about it; my heart is troubled over Someone. I could stay awake through the longest night and keep on dreaming of Someone. Oh, the bliss of Someone; oh, the heaven of Someone! I could wander through the whole world out of love for Someone. You powers that favor love, oh smile down kindly upon Someone; protect him when dangers threaten; give Someone a safe escort. Oh, bliss to Someone; oh, heaven to Someone! I would like, I would like, what wouldn’t I like for my Someone?!

5 & 6. Lieder [Songs; texts by Goethe, from the “Cupbearer Book” of the Westöstlicher Divan]

I (5). If I sit alone, where can I be better off? I drink my wine alone; no one limits my actions, I just think my own thoughts. If I sit alone, where can I be better off, where can it be better, be better, be better?

II (6). You lout, don’t plump the wine jar down in front of my nose so roughly! Whoever serves me wine should look at me in a friendly way, or else the fine vintage [literally, “the elevener,” that is, the wine of 1811, a particularly fine year] will become clouded in the glass. You charming boy, come in, why are you standing there on the threshold? From now on you will be my cupbearer and every wine will be tasty and bright.

7. Die Lotosblume [The Lotus Flower; text by Heine]

The lotus flower is troubled by the sun’s splendor and, dreaming with lowered head, she awaits the night. The moon is her paramour; he wakes her with his light, and to him she gladly unveils her dutiful flower-face. She blossoms and glows and beams, and gazes silently upward; she emits fragrance and weeps and trembles with love and love’s pain, with love and love’s pain.

8. Talismane [Talismans; text by Goethe, from the Westöstlicher Divan]

The Orient is God’s! The Occident is God’s! Northern and southern countries rest in the peace of His hands. He, the only just One, wants what is right for every man. Of His hundred names, may this one be praised! Amen! The Orient is God’s! The Occident is God’s! My aimless roving seeks to confuse me, but You are able to set me straight. Whenever I take action, whenever I compose poetry, steer me onto my proper path! The Orient is God’s! The Occident is God’s! Northern and southern countries rest in the peace of His hands. Amen! Amen!

9. Lied der Suleika [Suleika’s Song; text by Goethe, from the Westöstlicher Divan]

O song, how I perceive your meaning with warmest satisfaction! You seem to say lovingly that I am by his side, by his side. That he constantly thinks of me and continually bestows the bliss of his love on the far-off woman, who has consecrated her life to him. Yes, my friend, my heart is the mirror in which you see yourself; this breast, upon which kiss after kiss, kiss after kiss has impressed the marks of your seal. Sweet composing, unsullied truth, binds me in sympathy and purely embodies the clarity of love in the garb of poetry. O song, how I perceive your meaning with warmest satisfaction! You seem to say lovingly that I am by his side, by his side.

10. Die Hochlander-Wittwe [The Highland Widow; German adaptation from Burns by Gerhard]

I have come to the lowlands, oh woe, oh woe, oh woe! I have been so completely plundered that I am perishing of hunger. It wasn’t like this in my highlands, oh woe, oh woe, oh woe! A more thoroughly fortunate woman than I was not to be found in dale or on hill—for then I owned twenty cows—oh woe, oh woe, oh woe—that gave me milk and butter and grazed in the clover, and I had sixty sheep there—oh woe, oh woe, oh woe—that warmed me with soft fleece in frost and wintry snow. No one in the whole clan could boast of greater happiness; for Donald was the handsomest man, and Donald was my own. So it remained, so it remained until Charlie Stuart came to free old Scotland; then Donald was obliged to lend aid to him and to the country. What befell them, who doesn’t know it? Justice yielded to injustice, and on the bloody field of Culloden master and servant were laid low. Oh, that I have come into the lowlands, oh woe, oh woe, oh woe! Now there is no woman more unfortunate from the highlands to the sea!

11 & 12. Lieder der Braut [Songs of the Fiancée; texts by Rückert, from The Springtime of Love]

I (11). Mother, Mother! Don’t think, just because I love him so much, that I now have insufficient love to love you as before. Mother, Mother! It’s only since I began to love him that I have loved you as much as I do. Let me hug you to my heart and kiss you the way he kisses me, the way he kisses me, he kisses me. Mother, Mother! It’s only since I began to love him that I have loved you as much as I do, because you lent me my existence, which has become so splendid to me, which has become so splendid, so splendid to me.

II (12). Let me cling to his breast, Mother, Mother! Stop being alarmed. Don’t ask: “How will it turn out?” Don’t ask: “How will this end?” End? It must never end. Turn out? I don’t know yet how. Let me cling to his breast, let me!

13. Hochldnders Abschied [Highlander’s Farewell; after Burns]

My heart’s in the highlands, my heart is not here; my heart’s in the highlands, on the forest paths. There it is hunting the deer and pursuing the doe; my heart’s in the highlands, wherever I go.

Farewell, my highlands, my native place; the cradle of liberty and courage is there. Wherever I roam, wherever I am, I am drawn back to the mountains, to the mountains.

Farewell, you mounta...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POETS
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• ALPHABETICAL LIST OF SONG OPENINGS
• ALPHABETICAL LIST OF SONG TITLES
• GLOSSARY OF GERMAN TERMS OCCURRING ON THE MUSIC PAGES
• Liederkreis [Heine], Op. 24
• Myrthen, Op. 25
• Zwölf Gedichte von Justinus Kerner, Op. 35
• Sechs Gedichte von Reinick, Op. 36
• Liederkreis [Eichendorff], Op. 39
• Frauenliebe und Leben, Op. 42
• Dichterliebe, Op. 48
• Individual Songs
• TRANSLATIONS