Urge to go far away
(Poet's title: Drang in die Ferne)
Set by Schubert:
D 770
[early 1823]
Vater, du glaubst es nicht,
Wie’s mir zum Herzen spricht,
Wenn ich die Wolken seh
Oder am Strome steh!
Wolkengold, Wellengrün
Ziehen so leicht dahin,
Weilen im Sonnenlicht,
Aber bei Blumen nicht.
Zögern und rasten nie,
Eilen als wüssten sie
Ferne und ungekannt
Irgend ein schön’res Land.
Ach! von Gewölk und Flut
Hat auch mein wildes Blut
Heimlich geerbt den Drang,
Stürmet die Welt entlang.
Vaterlands Felsental
Wird mir zu eng, zu schmal;
Denn meiner Sehnsucht Traum
Findet darin nicht Raum.
Lasst mich! ich muss, ich muss
Fordern den Scheidekuss.
Vater und Mutter mein,
Müsset nicht böse sein:
Hab euch ja herzlich lieb,
Aber ein wilder Trieb
Jagt mich waldein, waldaus,
Weit von dem Vaterhaus.
Sorgt nicht durch welches Land
Einsam mein Weg sich wand.
Monden- und Sternenschein
Leuchtet auch dort hinein.
Überall wölbt’s Gefild
Sich den azurnen Schild,
Den um die ganze Welt
Schirmend der Schöpfer hält.
Ach! und wenn nimmermehr
Ich zu euch wiederkehr,
Lieben, so denkt er fand
Glücklich das schön’re Land.
Father, you will not believe
How much it speaks to my heart
When I see the clouds
Or I stand by the river,
The gold of the clouds, the green of the waves,
They are pulled along so gently,
They hang about in the sunlight
But not amongst the flowers.
They never hesitate or rest,
They hurry on as if they were aware of
A distant and unexplored
Land somewhere else, a more beautiful land.
Oh! From the clouds and the flowing waters
My wild blood has also
Secretly inherited that urge
To storm through the world!
My fatherland’s valley enclosed by cliffs
Is becoming too narrow for me, too constricted;
For my dreams of longing
Cannot find any space within it.
Let me go! I have to, I must,
Request a farewell kiss.
Dear father and mother,
You mustn’t be angry:
I really love you with all my heart
Yet a savage instinct
Is chasing me into the forest and beyond,
Far from my paternal home.
Do not worry about which land
My solitary path is taking me towards,
The light of the moon and the stars
Will be shining down even there.
Everywhere is underneath that overarching
Azure shield
Which covers the whole world,
Held by the protecting arm of the creator.
And oh, if it happens that I never again
Return to you,
Dear ones, just tell yourself he found
Happiness in that more beautiful land.
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.
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Themes and images in this text:
Blood Blue Clouds Dreams Farewell and leave taking Father and child Floods and tides Flowers Gold Green Hearts Heaven, the sky Here and there Home (Heimat) Kissing Longing and yearning Mother and child Near and far Night and the moon Paths Rest Rivers (Strom) Stars Storms Valleys Walking and wandering Waves – Welle Woods – large woods and forests (Wald)
There is a tension in much German Romantic poetry between the longing for rest at home (Heimat) and the urge to escape our constricting environment. They can be one and the same thing, of course. Our sense that we belong elsewhere is part of the idea that we are not at home here, that all of our roving and exploration is an attempt to find where we really belong.
In the case of Leitner’s young man, his environment is literally confining and restricted; he has grown up in an Alpine valley (the poet was from Graz, Styria) and his only concept of travel comes from what he sees of the clouds and the rivers rushing past. He looks at the beautiful flowers, rooted (like him) to the spot and realises that he is not a plant. He has more in common with those elements of nature that are in motion. He therefore needs to move. He wants to ‘storm through the world’.
It is all too easy to explain this away, to say that his urges are an inevitable reaction to his narrow upbringing or to overprotective parenting. However, this is to overlook the fact that people differ. Many people in exactly the same circumstances are perfectly happy to remain in their native valleys and see no need to look beyond what they might consider to be already wide horizons. Many people might have stirrings of similar urges to travel but they decide to prioritise other considerations (such as their obligations to others). It may not just be a matter of different personality types and different judgements. The same person might go through different phases: at a certain stage in life we see travel as a form of enquiry and genuine openness to the rest of the world, but at other times we suspect that travel might in fact narrow the mind and that it could serve as a type of immature escapism.
This is the tension, not just at the heart of German Romantic poetry, but of the human condition itself. We are made up of these contradictory urges. We ‘know’ that there is a great deal that we still do not know. We are restless, but we long for rest. We are safe, but we long for risk.
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Original Spelling Drang in die Ferne Vater, du glaubst es nicht, Wie's mir zum Herzen spricht, Wenn ich die Wolken seh', Oder am Strome steh', Wolkengold, Wellengrün Ziehen so leicht dahin, Weilen im Sonnenlicht, Aber bei Blumen nicht. Zögern und rasten nie, Eilen als wüßten sie Ferne und ungekannt Irgend ein schön'res Land. Ach! von Gewölk und Fluth Hat auch mein wildes Blut Heimlich geerbt den Drang, Stürmet die Welt entlang! Vaterlands Felsenthal Wird mir zu eng, zu schmal; Denn meiner Sehnsucht Traum Findet darin nicht Raum. Laßt mich! ich muss, ich muss Fordern den Scheidekuss. Vater und Mutter mein, Müsset nicht böse seyn: Hab' euch ja herzlich lieb, Aber ein wilder Trieb Jagt mich waldein waldaus, Weit von dem Vaterhaus. Sorgt nicht durch welches Land Einsam mein Weg sich wand, Monden- und Sternenschein Leuchtet auch dort hinein. Überall wölbt's Gefild' Sich den azurnen Schild, Den um die ganze Welt Schirmend der Schöpfer hält. Ach und wenn nimmermehr Ich zu euch wiederkehr', Lieben, so denkt er fand Glücklich das schön're Land.
Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Wiener Zeitschrift für Kunst, Literatur, Theater und Mode. Erstes Quartal des achten Jahrgangs. Auf Kosten des Herausgebers Johann Schickh. No. 36. Dinstag, den 25. März 1823, attachment after page 300.
To see an early edition of the text, go to 343 von 368 here: http://digital.onb.ac.at/OnbViewer/viewer.faces?doc=ABO_%2BZ136927309