Coronach (Funeral song of the women and girls)
(Poet's title: Coronach (Totengesang der Frauen und Mädchen))
Set by Schubert:
D 836
for SSA chorus[1825]
Part of Sieben Gesänge aus Walter Scott’s Fräulein vom See
Er ist uns geschieden
Vom Berg und vom Walde
Wie versiegte Quelle,
Als Not uns bedrängte.
Die Quelle wird fließen,
Genährt von dem Regen,
Uns scheint nie mehr Freude,
Dem Duncan kein Morgen.
Die Hand des Schnitters
Nimmt reife Ähren,
Unser Trauergesang
Klagt blühende Jugend.
Der Herbstwind treibt Blätter,
Die gelben, die welken,
Es blüht’ unsre Blume,
Als Mehltau sie welkte.
Ihr flüchtigen Füße,
Du Rat in Bedrängnis,
Du Arm im Streite,
Wie tief ist dein Schlummer.
Wie Tau auf den Bergen,
Wie Schaum auf dem Bache,
Wie Blas’ auf der Welle –
Bist ewig geschieden.
He has left us
He has gone from the mountain and the forest,
Like a dried-up spring
When we were facing an emergency.
The spring will flow,
Nourished by the rain,
But no more joy will shine on us,
There is no tomorrow for Duncan.
The hand of the reaper
Takes ripe ears of corn,
Our song of mourning
Bewails blossoming youth,
The autumn wind drives leaves
That are yellow, that have withered,
But our flower was in bloom
When mildew withered it.
You swift feet,
You counsel in distress,
You arm in battle,
How deep is your slumber!
Like dew on the mountains,
Like foam on the river,
Like a bubble on the wave –
You have left for ever.
All translations into English that appear on this website, unless otherwise stated, are by Malcolm Wren. You are free to use them on condition that you acknowledge Malcolm Wren as the translator and schubertsong.uk as the source. Unless otherwise stated, the comments and essays that appear after the texts and translations are by Malcolm Wren and are © Copyright.
☙
Themes and images in this text:
Autumn Corn and cornfields Dew Flowers Harvest Joy Laments, elegies and mourning Leaves and foliage Mountains and cliffs Rivers (Bach) Springs, sources and fountains Wind Woods – large woods and forests (Wald)
Scott glossed the word ‘Coronach’ as follows:
“The Coronach of the Highlanders was a wild expression of lamentation, poured forth by the mourners over the body of a departed friend. When the words of it were articulate, they expressed the praises of the deceased, and the loss the clan would sustain by his death.”
Duncan, the clan member being lamented here, is one of the many minor characters who appear briefly in the long narrative poem, ‘The Lady of the Lake’, which tells the story of the events of six days (with every Canto devoted to a day each). The Third Canto (‘The Gathering‘) is an account of how Roderick Dhu, the Chief of Clan Alpine, summons his supporters in preparation for an uprising against King James V of Scotland. His messenger Malise is sent with a burning cross to every village and hamlet to instruct the fighting males of the clan to assemble on Lanrick meadow as soon as possible. People have to drop everything they are doing, whether they are getting married or burying their father, and respond to the Chief’s summons:
XIV.
Fast as the fatal symbol flies,
In arms the huts and hamlets rise;
From winding glen, from upland brown,
They poured each hardy tenant down.
Nor slacked the messenger his pace;
He showed the sign, he named the place,
And, pressing forward like the wind,
Left clamor and surprise behind.
The fisherman forsook the strand,
The swarthy smith took dirk and brand;
With changed cheer, the mower blithe
Left in the half-cut swath his scythe;
The herds without a keeper strayed,
The plough was in mid-furrow staved,
The falconer tossed his hawk away,
The hunter left the stag at hay;
Prompt at the signal of alarms,
Each son of Alpine rushed to arms;
So swept the tumult and affray
Along the margin of Achray.
Alas, thou lovely lake! that e'er
Thy banks should echo sounds of fear!
The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep
So stilly on thy bosom deep,
The lark's blithe carol from the cloud
Seems for the scene too gayly loud.
XV.
Speed, Malise, speed! The lake is past,
Duncraggan's huts appear at last,
And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen
Half hidden in the copse so green;
There mayst thou rest, thy labor done,
Their lord shall speed the signal on.—
As stoops the hawk upon his prey,
The henchman shot him down the way.
What woful accents load the gale?
The funeral yell, the female wail!
A gallant hunter's sport is o'er,
A valiant warrior fights no more.
Who, in the battle or the chase,
At Roderick's side shall fill his place!—
Within the hall, where torch's ray
Supplies the excluded beams of day,
Lies Duncan on his lowly bier,
And o'er him streams his widow's tear.
His stripling son stands mournful by,
His youngest weeps, but knows not why;
The village maids and matrons round
The dismal coronach resound.
XVI.
Coronach.
He is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
When our need was the sorest.
The font, reappearing,
From the rain-drops shall borrow,
But to us comes no cheering,
To Duncan no morrow!
The hand of the reaper
Takes the ears that are hoary,
But the voice of the weeper
Wails manhood in glory.
The autumn winds rushing
Waft the leaves that are searest,
But our flower was in flushing,
When blighting was nearest.
Fleet foot on the correi,
Sage counsel in cumber,
Red hand in the foray,
How sound is thy slumber!
Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
Thou art gone, and forever!
XVII.
See Stumah, who, the bier beside
His master's corpse with wonder eyed,
Poor Stumah! whom his least halloo
Could send like lightning o'er the dew,
Bristles his crest, and points his ears,
As if some stranger step he hears.
'T is not a mourner's muffled tread,
Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead,
But headlong haste or deadly fear
Urge the precipitate career.
All stand aghast:—unheeding all,
The henchman bursts into the hall;
Before the dead man's bier he stood,
Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood;
'The muster-place is Lanrick mead;
Speed forth the signal! clansmen, speed!'
XVIII.
Angus, the heir of Duncan's line,
Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign.
In haste the stripling to his side
His father's dirk and broadsword tied;
But when he saw his mother's eye
Watch him in speechless agony,
Back to her opened arms he flew
Pressed on her lips a fond adieu,—
'Alas' she sobbed,—'and yet be gone,
And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son!'
One look he cast upon the bier,
Dashed from his eye the gathering tear,
Breathed deep to clear his laboring breast,
And tossed aloft his bonnet crest,
Then, like the high-bred colt when, freed,
First he essays his fire and speed,
He vanished, and o'er moor and moss
Sped forward with the Fiery Cross.
Suspended was the widow's tear
While yet his footsteps she could hear;
And when she marked the henchman's eye
Wet with unwonted sympathy,
'Kinsman,' she said, 'his race is run
That should have sped thine errand on.
The oak teas fallen?—the sapling bough Is all
Duncraggan's shelter now
Yet trust I well, his duty done,
The orphan's God will guard my son.—
And you, in many a danger true
At Duncan's hest your blades that drew,
To arms, and guard that orphan's head!
Let babes and women wail the dead.'
Then weapon-clang and martial call
Resounded through the funeral hall,
While from the walls the attendant band
Snatched sword and targe with hurried hand;
And short and flitting energy
Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye,
As if the sounds to warrior dear
Might rouse her Duncan from his bier.
But faded soon that borrowed force;
Grief claimed his right, and tears their course.
☙
Scott’s original
He is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
When our need was the sorest.
The font, re-appearing,
From the rain-drops shall borrow,
But to us comes no cheering,
To Duncan no morrow!
The hand of the reaper
Takes the ears that are hoary,
But the voice of the weeper
Wails manhood in glory;
The autumn winds rushing
Waft the leaves that are searest,
But our flower was in flushing,
When blighting was nearest.
Fleet foot on the correi*,
Sage counsel in cumber,
Red hand in the foray,
How sound is thy slumber!
Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam on the river
Like the bubble on the fountain,
Thou art gone, and for ever! *
Or corri. The hollow side of the hill, where game usually lies. SCOTT
Storck’s German
Er ist uns geschieden
Vom Berg und vom Walde,
Wie versiegte Quelle,
Als Noth uns bedrängte.
Die Quelle wird fließen,
Genährt von dem Regen,
Uns scheint nie mehr Freude,
Dem Duncan kein Morgen.
Die Hand des Schnitters
Nimmt reife Aehren,
Unser Trauergesang
Klagt blühende Jugend,
Der Herbstwind treibt Blätter
Die gelben, die welken,
Es blüht’ unsre Blume,
Als Mehlthau sie welkte.
Ihr flüchtigen Füße,
Du Rath in Bedrängniß,
Du Arm im Streite,
Wie tief ist dein Schlummer!
Wie Thau auf den Bergen,
Wie Schaum auf dem Bache,
Wie Blas’ auf der Quelle –
Bist ewig geschieden.
Back translation
He has left us
He has gone from the mountain and the forest,
Like a dried-up spring
When we were facing an emergency.
The spring will flow,
Nourished by the rain,
But no more joy will shine on us,
There is no tomorrow for Duncan.
The hand of the reaper
Takes ripe ears of corn,
Our song of mourning
Bewails blossoming youth,
The autumn wind drives leaves
That are yellow, that have withered,
But our flower was in bloom
When mildew withered it.
You swift feet,
You counsel in distress,
You arm in battle,
How deep is your slumber!
Like dew on the mountains,
Like foam on the river,
Like a bubble on the spring –
You have left for ever.
Original Spelling and note on the text Coronach (Totengesang der Frauen und Mädchen) Er ist uns geschieden Vom Berg und vom Walde, Wie versiegte Quelle, Als Noth uns bedrängte. Die Quelle wird fließen, Genährt von dem Regen, Uns scheint nie mehr Freude, Dem Duncan kein Morgen. Die Hand des Schnitters Nimmt reife Aehren, Unser Trauergesang Klagt blühende Jugend, Der Herbstwind treibt Blätter Die gelben, die welken, Es blüht' unsre Blume, Als Mehlthau sie welkte. Ihr flüchtigen Füße, Du Rath in Bedrängniß, Du Arm im Streite, Wie tief ist dein Schlummer! Wie Thau auf den Bergen, Wie Schaum auf dem Bache, Wie Blas' auf der Welle - Bist ewig geschieden. 1 Schubert appears to have changed 'Quelle' (spring) to 'Welle' (wave)
Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Schubert’s source, Das Fräulein vom See. Ein Gedicht in sechs Gesängen von Walter Scott. Aus dem Englischen, und mit einer historischen Einleitung und Anmerkungen von D. Adam Storck, weiland Professor in Bremen. Zweite, vom Uebersetzer selbst noch verbesserte Auflage. Essen, bei G. D. Bädeker. 1823, pages 109-110; and with Das Fräulein vom See. Ein Gedicht in sechs Gesängen von Walter Scott. Aus dem Englischen, und mit einer historischen Einleitung und Anmerkungen von D. Adam Storck, Professor in Bremen. Essen, bei G. D. Bädeker. 1819, pages 116-117.
To see an early edition of the text, go to page 109 here: https://books.google.at/books?id=p0YRAQAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=de&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false
For the full text of The Lady of the Lake: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/3011/3011-h/3011-h.htm