Covers and covering

Rattray, Ladies of Kabul, circa 1839
Rattray, Ladies of Kabul, circa 1839


Todesstille deckt das Tal 
Bei des Mondes falbem Strahl! 
Winde flüstern dumpf und bang
In des Wächters Nachtgesang.  

Leiser, dumpfer tönt es hier 
In der bangen Seele mir, 
Nimmt den Strahl der Hoffnung fort, 
Wie den Mond die Wolke dort.  

Hüllt, ihr Wolken, hüllt den Schein 
Immer tiefer, tiefer ein! 
Vor ihm bergen will mein Herz 
Seinen tiefen, tiefen Schmerz.  

Nennen soll ihn nicht mein Mund:
Keine Träne mach ihn kund; 
Senken soll man ihn hinab 
Einst mit mir ins kühle Grab.  

A deathly silence is covering the valley
In the pale moonlight;
Winds are whispering, muffled and anxious,
In the watchman's night song.

It resounds here, more gentle, more muffled,
In my anxious soul,
It takes away the ray of hope
As the cloud up there removes the moon.

Wrap it, clouds, wrap the glow
Up, ever deeper, deeper!
My heart wants to hide from it
Its deep, deep pain.

My mouth will not name it;
No tears will acknowledge it;
It should be buried 
Along with me in the cool grave.

Jacobi, In der Mitternacht	D 464

Jacobi’s gloomy poem uses the imagery of covering or wrapping things up in two contexts that recur throughout Schubert’s song texts: the moon and the grave. Moonlight throws a covering over the earth. This somehow transforms our perceptions of the world we live in. Later, clouds cover the disc of the moon, acting as a veil. Jacobi uses this idea to symbolise the end of hope; the speaker’s ‘ray’ of hope is snuffed out. As the coverings are wrapped ever tighter they become a shroud and the speaker is buried, covered by the earth itself.

The moral of Kenner’s ballad Der Liedler (The Minstrel) is that the grave is the ultimate covering. After a lifetime of travelling and all sorts of diversionary activities, the minstrel’s emotions can only ultimately be suppressed and hidden in death.


Fahr, Liedler, fahr auf ewig wohl,
Dein Herze, schmerz- und liebevoll,
Hat Ruh im Grab gefunden,
Das Grab ist aller Pilger Ruh,
Das Grab deckt Herz und Wünsche zu,
Macht alles Leids gesunden.

Farewell, minstrel, farewell for ever!
Your heart, full of pain and love
Has found rest in the grave!
The grave is the repose of all pilgrims,
The grave covers up heart and desires,
It provides a cure for all suffering.

Kenner, Der Liedler	D 209

In Mayrhofer’s Nachtstück, another minstrel sings his final song and is then welcomed into his grave:


Die grünen Bäume rauschen dann:
   Schlaf süß, du guter alter Mann;
   Die Gräser lispeln wankend fort: 
   Wir decken seinen Ruheort;
   Und mancher liebe Vogel ruft:
   O lasst ihn ruhn in Rasengruft.

The green trees then rustle,
   Sleep sweetly, good old man;
   The blades of grass whisper as they sway,
   We shall cover his place of rest;
   And many a dear bird cries out,
   Oh let him rest in this trench in the turf! - 

Mayrhofer, Nachtstück	D 672

Schubart’s An den Tod (To death) captures a longing for an end to torment from inside a prison. This time the body is covered with sand rather than turf.


Tod, wann kommst du? meine Lust! 
Ziehst den Dolch aus meiner Brust, 
Streifst die Fessel von der Hand, 
Ach, wann deckst du mich mit Sand. 

Death, when are you going to come? My delight!
Pull the dagger out of my breast;
Slip the shackles off my hand.
Oh, when are you going to cover me with sand?

Schubart, An den Tod		D 518

There was a major sub-genre of poetry in the century after about 1750 that was set in and around graveyards, and it is not surprising that many poets writing within this tradition saw graves, gravestones and monuments as covers. Pious Christians looked forward to the day when the doors would spring open and the dead would be resurrected. Other poets saw the dead bodies as seeds. When buried / sowed they would germinate and leave behind the husk / the outer mortal covering that would not be needed in heaven.

A text which brings together many of these themes is Schlechta’s (over?) ambitious Auf einem Kirchof (In a churchyard), D 151. It is not always easy to follow the poet’s train of thought through these ideas, but it appears that the text is best read as a sort of meditation on covers, covering up and uncovering. We begin by observing the ‘colourful covering’ that nature has provided to ‘hide’ the graves in the churchyard. As the sun sets red flames appear to emerge from the dark earth. The poet then considers what it was like for the people buried here as they (like the sun) sank into death and the grave covered them. Did they share in the majesty that appears at sunset? Their cold hearts, wounds and agonies are now covered ‘gently’ by the earth. Just as dry seeds and pollen spring to life again and bloom on the exposed rocks, perhaps these husks will produce blossom from the grave. Perhaps a spark of life will be reignited. At this point the poet turns his attention from the graves around him and considers his own future. Am I too going to be dead, truly dead, like these corpses here? Surely the drive of life that I feel so powerfully cannot be buried forever in the grave. No. This body is just a covering and death will uncover the reality within.


Sei gegrüßt geweihte Stille,
Die mir sanfte Trauer weckt,
Wo Natur die bunte Hülle
Freundlich über Gräber deckt.

Leicht von Wolkenduft getragen
Senkt die Sonne ihren Lauf,
Aus der finstern Erde schlagen
Glühend rote Flammen auf!

Ach, auch ihr, erstarrte Brüder,
Habet sinkend ihn vollbracht.
Sankt ihr auch so herrlich nieder
In des Grabes Schauernacht?

Schlummert sanft ihr kalten Herzen
In der düstern langen Ruh,
Eure Wunden, eure Schmerzen,
Decket mild die Erde zu! - 

Neu zerstören, neu erschaffen
Treibt das Rad der Weltenuhr,
Kräfte, die am Fels erschlaffen,
Blühen wieder auf der Flur!

Und auch du, geliebte Hülle,
Sinkest zuckend einst hinab
Und erblühst in schöner Fülle
Neu, ein Blümchen auf dem Grab.

Wankst, ein Flämmchen, durch die Grüfte,
Irrest flimmernd durch dies Moor -
Schwingst, ein Strahl, dich durch die Lüfte,
Klingest hell, ein Ton, empor!

Aber du, das in mir lebet,
Wirst auch du des Wurmes Raub?
Was entzückend mich erhebet,
Bist auch du nur eitel Staub?

Nein! was ich im Innern fühle,
Was entzückend mich erhebt,
Ist der Gottheit reine Fülle,
Ist ihr Hauch, der in mir lebt! -


Greetings, blessed stillness,
Which awakens soft mourning in me,
Where nature, with bright drapery,
Covers the graves in such a friendly way.

Lightly carried by hazy clouds,
The sun sinks at the end of its journey;
Leaping out of the dark earth 
Glowing red flames flare up!

Oh, and you too, motionless brothers,
Have also completed your journey by sinking;
Was your descent as magnificent as this
When you sank into the awful night of the grave?

Sleep softly, you cold hearts,
In your gloomy long rest.
Your wounds, your agonies,
Are now covered up by the earth.

As one thing is destroyed another is created,
That is the impulse of the wheel of the world clock;
Powers that lie dormant in the rocks
Blossom again on the grassy surface.

And you, too, beloved covering,
Shuddering as you sink down,
And, in beautiful fullness, you will blossom
Again, a small flower on the grave.

You will flicker, a small flame through the burial vault,
You will shimmer across this moor, wandering around;
As a ray of light, you will jump through the air,
As a note, you will ring out clearly!

But you, that which is living in me,
Will you too be prey to worms?
That which lifts me up in delight,
Are you also simply nothing but dust?

No, that which I feel deep within,
That which lifts me up  in delight,
Is the pure fullness of divinity,
It is the breath of that which lives within me.

Franz von Schlechta, Auf einem Kirchof 	D 151

☙

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