Love's longing
(Poet's title: Sehnsucht der Liebe)
Set by Schubert:
D 180
[April 8, 1815]
Wie die Nacht mit heil’gem Beben
Auf der stillen Erde liegt!
Wie sie sanft der Seele Streben,
Üpp’ge Kraft und volles Leben
In den süßen Schlummer wiegt.
Aber mit ewig neuen Schmerzen
Regt sich die Sehnsucht in meiner Brust.
Schlummern auch alle Gefühle im Herzen,
Schweigt in der Seele Qual und Lust.
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie,
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie.
Leis, wie Äols Harfentöne,
Weht ein sanfter Hauch mich an.
Hold und freundlich glänzt Selene,
Und in milder geist’ger Schöne
Geht die Nacht die stille Bahn.
Aber auf kühnen, stürmischen Wegen
Führt die Liebe dem trunkenen Sinn.
Wie alle Kräfte gewaltig sich regen!
Ach! und die Ruhe der Brust ist dahin:
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie,
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie.
Tief, im süßen, heil’gen Schweigen
Ruht die Welt und atmet kaum.
Und die schönsten Bilder steigen
Aus des Lebens bunten Reigen,
Und lebendig wird der Traum.
Aber auch in des Traumes Gestalten
Winkt mir die Sehnsucht, die schmerzliche, zu,
Und ohn’ Erbarmen, mit tiefen Gewalten
Stört sie das Herz aus der wonnigen Ruh:
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie,
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie.
So entschwebt der Kreis der Horen,
Bis der Tag im Osten graut.
Da erhebt sich, neugeboren,
Aus des Morgens Rosentoren,
Glühendhell die Himmelsbraut.
Aber die Sehnsucht in meinem Herzen
Ist mit dem Morgen nur stärker erwacht.
Ewig verjüngen sich meine Schmerzen,
Quälen den Tag und quälen die Nacht:
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie,
Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie.
How the night makes a holy trembling
As it lies on the quiet Earth!
How gently it takes the soul’s striving,
Sumptuous strength and full life
And rocks it into a sweet sleep.
But with endlessly new pains
Longing stirs in my breast.
Even if all feelings are asleep in the heart,
And if agony and joy are silent in the soul: –
Love’s longing never sleeps,
Love’s longing never sleeps.
Quietly, like the notes of an Aeolian harp,
A gentle breath is blowing towards me.
Selene shines sweetly and in a friendly way,
And in gentle, spiritual beauty
Night goes on its quiet way.
But on bold, stormy paths
A drunken mind is led by love.
How powerfully all the powers are moving!
Oh! and the calm of my breast has gone!
Love’s longing never sleeps,
Love’s longing never sleeps.
Deep in sweet, holy silence
The world is at rest and hardly breathes,
And the most beautiful images rise
Out of life’s bright dance,
And the dream comes alive.
But even in the forms of dreams,
Longing, so painful, signals to me,
And without mercy, with deep force,
It disturbs the heart, pulling it out of its blissful peace.
Love’s longing never sleeps,
Love’s longing never sleeps.
Thus the cycle of the hours floats by
Until day dawns with a grey light in the East.
There emerges, new born,
Out of the morning’s rose-pink gates,
The bride of heaven, glowing brightly.
But longing in my heart
Has awoken even more strongly with the morning;
My pains are eternally rejuvenated,
Tormenting me by day, tormenting me by night.
Love’s longing never sleeps,
Love’s longing never sleeps.
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:
Breath and breathing Chest / breast Circles Clocks Dancing Doors and gates Dreams The earth East and West Flying, soaring and gliding Frenzy and lack of control Going to bed Grey Harps and Aeolian harps Hearts Husband and wife Longing and yearning Lullabies Morning and morning songs Night and the moon Pain Pictures and paintings Red and purple Roses and pink Sleep Soul Storms Striving The sun Sweetness
” . . . the innocent sleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast; – ”
Shakespeare, Macbeth Act II Scene 2
Macbeth, having murdered King Duncan, is terrified that he will never sleep again and so fears that he will be deprived of the ‘balm’ and ‘nourishment’ offered by regular sleep. In Körner’s text, though, the speaker does manage to get to sleep and manages to experience some sort of oblivion; the problem is that the sleep offers no balm. The agitation resulting from love is no calmer on waking.
However disturbed we are we can usually rely on a night’s sleep to give us some distance. Having ‘slept on it’ we are in a better position to take control and see things in perspective. Nevertheless, there are certain traumas and emotional states that seem to remain resistant to this usual treatment; sleep does not knit up this ravell’d sleave of care. It is just such a condition that Körner is writing about in Sehnsucht der Liebe.
The speaker experiences a strange unconsciousness when asleep. He thinks that the feelings in his heart have fallen asleep, that the agonising tension between joy and torment brought on by love has fallen silent in his soul, yet he still knows that love’s longing is not joining him in sleep. It is still up as he falls asleep and it is already awake in the morning when he himself wakes up. It remains ‘on watch’, it never turns in. The use of a refrain making this very point reinforces this sense of a recurring cycle of unrefreshing sleep.
In each of the stanzas the poet uses images to clarify the strange tension experienced in sleep between the calm and oblivion that seems to be on offer and the agitation encountered on awaking. In stanza 1 this tension is compared to the rocking motion that calms us; the night makes a holy trembling (Beben) as it lies on the quiet earth, which could be a gentle rocking but it could just as easily be a sort of earthquake. We are both lulled to sleep and jolted awake by a force welling up from hidden depths. In the second stanza the calm of night is embodied in gentle breezes and the resulting sounds of an Aeolian harp, and this is disturbed by more stormy currents which seem to blow the image of the beloved out of the speaker’s reach. Again, we are jerked awake, startled anew at the loss. Stanza 3 is about movement. Initially the movements we see in our dream are ordered and beautiful, forming a harmonious dance, but again the movement becomes disordered and I am jolted into an uncomfortable consciousness once more. The final stanza seems to be about a sleepless night rather than a night of disturbed dreams. Throughout the night I am conscious of the hour, the endless ticking of the clock. The only relief that seems to be offered is the changing light as dawn approaches: grey, giving way to pink and then a brighter red / orange as the sun (the bride of heaven) emerges through the gates of day. However, this new day has not brought any change in the inner condition; if anything the pain is fresher than ever. Although the night is over I now have to face the different torments of the daylight hours. For this speaker, sleep is no longer ‘the death of each day’s life’.
☙
Original Spelling and note on the text Sehnsucht der Liebe Wie die Nacht mit heil'gem Beben Auf der stillen Erde liegt! Wie sie sanft der Seele Streben, Üpp'ge Kraft und volles Leben In den süßen Schlummer wiegt. Aber mit ewig neuen Schmerzen Regt sich die Sehnsucht in meiner Brust. Schlummern auch alle Gefühle im Herzen, Schweigt in der Seele Qual und Lust: - Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie, Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie1. Leis', wie Äols-Harfentöne Weh't ein sanfter Hauch mich an, Hold und freundlich glänzt Selene, Und in milder geist'ger Schöne Geht die Nacht die stille Bahn. Aber auf kühnen, stürmischen Wegen Führt die Liebe dem trunkenen Sinn. Wie alle Kräfte gewaltig sich regen! Ach! und die Ruhe der Brust ist dahin: Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie, Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie. Tief, im süßen, heil'gen Schweigen Ruht die Welt, und athmet kaum, Und die schönsten Bilder steigen Aus des Lebens bunten Reigen, Und lebendig wird der Traum. Aber auch in des Traumes Gestalten Winkt mir die Sehnsucht, die schmerzliche, zu, Und ohn' Erbarmen, mit tiefen Gewalten Stört sie das Herz aus der wonnigen Ruh: Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie, Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie. So entschwebt der Kreis der Horen, Bis der Tag im Osten graut. Da erhebt sich, neugeboren, Aus des Morgens Rosen-Thoren, Glühendhell die Himmels-Braut. Aber die Sehnsucht in meinem Herzen Ist mit dem Morgen nur stärker erwacht. Ewig verjüngen sich meine Schmerzen, Quälen den Tag, und quälen die Nacht: Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie, Sehnsucht der Liebe schlummert nie. 1 Schubert changed 'wacht spät und früh' (is awake late and early) to 'schlummert nie' (never sleeps)
Confirmed with Knospen von Theodor Körner. Leipzig bei Georg Joachim Göschen. 1810, pages 108-110; with Theodor Körner’s Gedichte. [Erster Theil.] Neueste Auflage. Wien 1815. Bey B. Ph. Bauer, pages 81-83; and with Theodor Körners vermischte Gedichte und Erzählungen (poetischer Nachlass). Wien, 1815. In der Haasschen Buchhandlung, pages 44-46.
To see an early edition of the text, go to page 100 [Erstes Bild 144] here: https://download.digitale-sammlungen.de/BOOKS/download.pl?id=bsb10701039