Morning and morning songs

Turner, Norham Castle at sunrise, c. 1845
Turner, Norham Castle at sunrise, c. 1845
Morgen

  Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen,
Und auf dem Wege, den ich gehen werde,
  Wird uns, die Glücklichen, sie wieder einen
Inmitten dieser sonne-athmenden Erde . . .

  Und zu dem Strand, dem weiten, wogenblauen,
Werden wir still und langsam niedersteigen,
  Stumm werden wir uns in die Augen schauen,
Und auf uns sinkt des Glückes stummes Schweigen . . .

Tomorrow

And tomorrow the sun is going to shine again
And on the path I am planning to take
It will unite us once more, we lucky ones,
In the midst of this sun-breathing Earth.

And towards the wide, wave-blue shore,
We shall climb down quietly and slowly,
We shall look each other in the eye without speaking
And the wordless silence of happiness will descend on us.

John Henry Mackay, Morgen

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

English translations cannot quite capture the range of the German word ‘Morgen’, which as a noun means ‘morning’ but as an adverb means ‘tomorrow’. This was the central message of Mackay’s Morgen (famously set to music by Richard Strauss in 1894) as he anticipated a time when same-sex lovers would be able to walk together openly as a couple. Although that day has dawned in many places, there are still many countries and regions where the promised happiness will only be on offer ‘tomorrow’.

In Wehmut (Melancholy) by Heinrich Hüttenbrenner the primary meaning of the word ‘Morgen’ seems to be ‘tomorrow’, even though the literal meaning of ‘Der Morgen deckt das Heute’ is ‘Morning covers today.’ This evening’s grief will be less raw tomorrow morning.


Die Abendglocke tönet,
Vom Himmel sinkt die Ruh;
Das Auge grambetränet
Nur schließet sich nicht zu.

. . . 

O töne, sanft Geläute,
Ins stille Tal hinab,
Der Morgen deckt das Heute,
Den Gram das Grabeshaus.


The evening chimes are ringing out,
Calm is descending from heaven;
My eyes are full of tears caused by grief
And they will not close now.

. . . 

Oh ring out, gentle bells,
Down into the quiet valley.
Tomorrow covers today,
Grief covers the tomb.

Heinrich Hüttenbrenner, Wehmut  D 825

The overall structure of this poem is common to a number of Schubert’s ‘morning’ texts, which begin at sunset or nightfall and end with the promise of a new dawn. The red sky at evening will reappear tomorrow.


Groß und rotentflammet schwebet
Noch die Sonn' am Himmelsrand,
Und auf blauen Wogen bebet
Noch ihr Abglanz bis zum Strand;
Aus dem Buchenwalde hebet
Sich der Mond, und winket Ruh 
Seiner Schwester Erde zu.

. . . 

Wenn die Nachtigallen flöten,
Hebe dich, mein Geist, empor!
Bei des jungen Tags Erröten
Neig' o Vater, mir dein Ohr!
Von der Erde Freud' und Nöten
Steig, o Geist, im Duft der Au!
Send, o Vater, deinen Tau!

Hovering large and ablaze with red
The sun is still at the edge of the sky,
And quivering on the blue waves,
And its reflection continues as far as the shore;
Lifting itself from the beech wood
Is the moon, which is sending a sign of restfulness
To its sister, the Earth.

. . .

When the nightingales sing,
Lift yourself up, my spirit, rise up!
As the young day turns red
Turn your ear to me, oh father!
From the Earth's joys and necessities
Climb up, oh spirit, in the scent of the meadow!
Father, send your dew!

zu Stolberg-Stolberg, Abendlied D 276

Gabriele von Baumberg took this basic structure to express a simple hope that tomorrow will be better than today. It is too late for her lover to come tonight so he will arrive in the morning!


Sinke, liebe Sonne, sinke,
Ende deinen trüben Lauf,
Und an deine Stelle winke
Bald den Mond herauf.

Herrlicher und schöner dringe
Aber Morgen dann herfür,
Liebe Sonn'! und mit dir bringe
Meinen Lieben mir.

Set, dear sun, set!
End your dreary course,
And in your place signal to
The moon to take over soon.

Appear more majestic and beautiful
Tomorrow, coming through,
Dear sun! and with you bring
Me my beloved.

von Baumberg, An die Sonne  D 270

Sängers Morgenlied / Singer’s morning song

A large number of the texts that refer to morning similarly associate it with the arrival of the beloved and the experience of being in love (e.g. Lied der Liebe D 109, Die Liebe D 522, An Sie D 288). In Körner’s Sängers Morgenlied (D 163, D 165) the experience of a lover at dawn broadens out to include the whole of nature. The soul rises with the sun through the clouds that might otherwise threaten us. The storms of life blow themselves out. Water and fields offer refreshment. The loving poet detects the harmony of the universe and the soul soars towards heaven.


Süßes Licht! Aus goldenen Pforten
Brichst du steigend durch die Nacht,
Schöner Tag, du bist erwacht.
Mit geheimnisvollen Worten,
In melodischen Akkorden,
Grüß ich deine Rosenpracht.

Ach! der Liebe sanftes Wehen
Schwellt mir das bewegte Herz,
Sanft, wie ein geliebter Schmerz.
Dürft' ich nur in goldnen Höhen
Mich im Morgenduft ergehen!
Sehnsucht zieht mich himmelwärts.

Und der Seele kühnes Streben
Trägt im stolzen Riesenlauf
Durch die Wolken mich hinauf. -
Doch mit sanftem Geisterbeben
Dringt das Lied ins inn're Leben,
Löst den Sturm melodisch auf.

Vor den Augen wird es helle;
Freundlich auf der zarten Spur
Weht der Einklang der Natur,
Und begeistert rauscht die Quelle,
Munter tanzt die flücht'ge Welle
Durch des Morgens stille Flur.

Und von süßer Lust durchdrungen
Webt sich zarte Harmonie
Durch des Lebens Poesie,
Was die Seele tief durchklungen,
Was berauscht der Mund gesungen,
Glüht in hoher Melodie.

Des Gesanges muntern Söhnen
Weicht im Leben jeder Schmerz,
Und nur Liebe schwellt ihr Herz.
In des Liedes heil'gen Tönen
Und im Morgenglanz des Schönen
Fliegt die Seele himmelwärts.

Sweet light! Out of golden doors
You break as you climb through the night.
Beautiful day! You have woken up.
With mysterious words,
In melodious chords,
I greet your rosy majesty!

Oh! The gentle sighing of love
Swells my responsive heart,
Gentle, like a beloved pain.
If only I were able to go up to those golden heights
And indulge in the morning fragrance!
Yearning draws me up towards heaven.

And the bold striving of the soul
With a proud gigantic leap carries
Me upwards through the clouds.
But with a soft stirring of the spirit
The song penetrates the life within,
Breaking up the storm with its melody.

Before my eyes everything becomes bright;
On the delicate path, in a friendly way,
The unison of nature is heard,
And the spring burbles with excitement,
The flowing waves dance with delight
Through the still meadow of the morning.

And shot through with sweet delight
Delicate harmony is woven
Through the poetry of life.
Whatever resounds deep within the soul,
Whatever is sung by the enraptured mouth,
Glows in exalted melody.

The merry sons of song
Soak up every pain in life,
And only love swells your heart,
In the holy notes of song
And in beauty's morning glow
The soul flies towards heaven.

Körner, Sängers Morgenlied  D 163, D 165

Hope and despair; lost and found

It seems to be so obvious that it does not even register as a poetic metaphor: the dawn of a new day brings with it new hope. In Gotter’s Pflicht und Liebe (Duty and love) a woman has to reject the advances of a lover, but she ends the text by assuring him that he will recover from his loss and hope will return with a new day:


Trauter Jüngling, lächle wieder! 
Sieh, beim Gruße froher Lieder, 
Steigt die Sonn' empor! 
Trübe sank sie gestern nieder; 
Herrlich geht sie heut' hervor.

Dear young man, smile again!
Look, as merry songs greet it
The sun is rising!
Yesterday it set amongst clouds,
But it is coming forth majestically today.

Gotter, Pflicht und Liebe  D 467

Leitner, too, presents the new day as a sign that the worst of the reader’s suffering is over. Our melancholy or loss might lead us to shed tears, but the resulting red eyes point to the red glow of the morning that will cure us.


Das hab ich selbst empfunden
Hier in dem Trauerland,
Wenn ich, vom Flor umwunden,
An lieben Gräbern stand.
Da schalt in irrem Wähnen
Ich selbst auf meinen Gott,
Es hielten nur die Tränen
Der Hoffnung Schiffchen flott.

Drum, hält dich auch umfangen
Der Schwermut trübste Nacht,
Vertrau in allem Bangen
Der Tränen Zaubermacht.
Bald, wenn vom heißen Weinen
Dir rot das Auge glüht,
Wird neu der Tag erscheinen,
Weil schon der Morgen blüht.

I have felt that myself
Here in the land of mourning,
When, wrapped in a veil, I
Have stood by beloved graves.
Then, cursing in my crazy delusion,
I myself blamed my God,
It was only tears that kept
The boat of hope afloat.

Therefore, if you also are gripped
By the gloomy night of melancholy,
In all your anxiety, trust
The magical power of tears.
Soon, when the hot weeping makes
Your eyes glow red,
A new day will appear,
Because morning is already flowering.

Leitner, Das Weinen D 926

Schlegel referred to this as ‘the dawn of my hope’:


Der Frühlingssonne holdes Lächeln
Ist meiner Hoffnung Morgenrot

The beauteous smile of the spring sun
Is the dawn of my hope;

A. W. von Schlegel, Wiedersehn  D 855

What if the rising sun only serves to illuminate our loss, though? This is how it is in Heine’s Die Stadt, which undermines the more conventional ‘sunset = loss, sunrise = return of hope’ structure of so many ‘morning’ songs.


Am fernen Horizonte
Erscheint, wie ein Nebelbild,
Die Stadt mit ihren Türmen,
In Abenddämmrung gehüllt.

Ein feuchter Windzug kräuselt
Die graue Wasserbahn;
Mit traurigem Takte rudert
Der Schiffer in meinem Kahn.

Die Sonne hebt sich noch einmal
Leuchtend vom Boden empor
Und zeigt mir jene Stelle,
Wo ich das Liebste verlor.

On the distant horizon
There appears, as a hazy image,
The town with its towers
Shrouded in evening twilight.

A damp current of wind ruffles
The grey watery track;
Rowing with a mournful rhythm is
The sailor in my boat.

The sun lifts itself up once again
Casting light from the ground upwards,
And it shows me that spot
Where I lost what I most love.

Heine, Die Stadt  D 957 11

Schiller’s Der Flüchtling (The refugee) begins as if the detailed evocation of a glorious spring morning is going to serve as a way of depicting the reviving hopes of a lost soul, only for the tone to shift disturbingly as we realise that all of the voices of nature and hope are actually an assault on the traumatised individual who is in flight from horror. The red sky of morning pours crimson blood over his world.


Frisch atmet des Morgens lebendiger Hauch,
Purpurisch zuckt durch düst're Tannen Ritzen
Das junge Licht und äugelt aus dem Strauch,
In goldnen Flammen blitzen
Der Berge Wolkenspitzen,
Mit freudig melodisch gewirbeltem Lied
Begrüßen erwachende Lerchen die Sonne,
Die schon in lachender Wonne
Jugendlich schön in Auroras Umarmungen glüht.

Sei, Licht, mir gesegnet!
Dein Strahlenguss regnet
Erwärmend hernieder auf Anger und Au.
Wie flittern die Wiesen,
Wie silberfarb zittern
Tausend Sonnen im perlenden Tau,

In säuselnder Kühle
Beginnen die Spiele
Der jungen Natur,
Die Zephyre kosen
Und schmeicheln um Rosen,
Und Düfte beströmen die lachende Flur.

Wie hoch aus den Städten die Rauchwolken dampfen,
Laut wiehern und schnauben und knirschen und strampfen
Die Rosse, die Farren,
Die Wagen erknarren
Ins ächzende Tal.
Die Waldungen leben,
Und Adler, und Falken und Habichte schweben
Und wiegen die Flügel im blendenden Strahl.

Den Frieden zu finden,
Wohin soll ich wenden
Am elenden Stab?
Die lachende Erde,
Mit Jünglingsgebärde,
Für mich nur ein Grab?

Steig empor, o Morgenrot, und röte
Mit purpurnen Küssen Hain und Feld,
Säusle nieder, o Abendrot und flöte
In sanften Schlummer die tote Welt!
Morgen, ach, du rötest
Eine Totenflur,
Ach und du, o Abendrot umflötest
Meinen langen Schlummer nur.

The morning’s living breath is fresh;
Through dark cracks in the fir trees there is a purple flash
Of young light looking out of the bushes,
Flashing with golden flames 
There are cloud capped mountain peaks,
With a joyful, melodious rolling song
As they wake  up, larks greet the sun,
Which, already laughing with joy, is
Glowing beautifully in Aurora’s embrace.

Let me bless you, light!
Your gushing beams rain down,
Giving warmth to the pastures and meadows below.
There is a silver-like glow in 
The meadows, as if 
A thousand suns were shaking in the pearls of dew!

In the rustling coolness
Games are beginning – 
It is young nature;
The zephyrs are caressing
And flattering the roses
And scents flow through the laughing fields.

How high above the towns the clouds of smoke rise up!
There is loud neighing, snorting, grinding and stamping from
The horses and the bulls;
The carts creak
Into the groaning valley.
The woodlands are alive,
And eagles, falcons and hawks glide
And beat their wings in the dazzling glow.

In order to find peace,
Where should I turn
With my wretched staff?
The laughing earth
With these signs of youth
Is, for me, just a grave!

Climb up, oh dawn, and redden
Grove and field with crimson kisses!
Lower your sighing, sunset, and pipe
The dead world softly to sleep!
Morning, oh, you redden
A field of death;
Oh, and you, sunset. Just pipe around
My long sleep.

Schiller, Der Flüchtling  D 67, D 402

Another of Schiller’s wanderers, a pilgrim on a quest for the rising sun, experiences a similar moment of false hope when he sees a river flowing East (another of the meanings of the word ‘Morgen’ can be ‘the Orient’). He dives in and is carried off to a great ocean, only to discover that he is not there yet (and never will be).


Noch in meines Lebens Lenze
  War ich, und ich wandert' aus,
Und der Jugend frohe Tänze
  Ließ ich in des Vaters Haus.

All mein Erbtheil, meine Habe
  Warf ich fröhlich glaubend hin,
Und am leichten Pilgerstabe
  Zog ich fort mit Kindersinn.

Denn mich trieb ein mächtig Hoffen
  Und ein dunkles Glaubenswort,
Wandle, rief's, der Weg ist offen,
  Immer nach dem Aufgang fort.

Bis zu einer goldnen Pforten
  Du gelangst, da gehst du ein,
Denn das Irdische wird dorten
  Ewig unvergänglich sein.

Abend ward's und wurde Morgen,
  Nimmer, nimmer stand ich still,
Aber immer blieb's verborgen,
  Was ich suche, was ich will.

Berge lagen mir im Wege,
  Ströme hemmten meinen Fuß,
Über Schlünde baut' ich Stege,
  Brücken durch den wilden Fluss.

Und zu eines Stroms Gestaden
  Kam ich, der nach Morgen floss,
Froh vertrauend seinem Faden
  Warf ich mich in seinen Schoß.

Hin zu einem großen Meere
  Trieb mich seiner Wellen Spiel,
Vor mir liegt's in weiter Leere,
  Näher bin ich nicht dem Ziel.

Ach kein Weg will dahin führen,
  Ach der Himmel über mir
Will die Erde nicht berühren,
  Und das Dort ist niemals Hier.


I was still in the springtime of my life
When I set out to travel,
And the happy dances of youth - 
I left them behind in my father's house.

All of my inheritance, everything I had
I threw it away happily and trustingly,
And I took up a light pilgrim's staff
And set off with a childlike attitude.

For I was being driven by a powerful hope
And a dark saying that encouraged faith:
Wander off, it called, the path is open,
Always leading towards the rising sun.

Until you reach a golden gate,
When you get there, go in,
Because what is earthly will there
Become eternal, immortal.

It was evening and it became morning
I never stood still, never,
But it always remained hidden,
The thing I was looking for, what I wanted.

Mountains lay in my way,
Streams hemmed in my feet,
I built footbridges across crevices,
I built bridges over the savage river.

And I came to the bank of a stream
That was flowing to the East, I came there
And happily trusting its current
I threw myself into its lap.

I was taken off to a great ocean,
The play of its waves carried me along,
Lying in front of me is a broad expanse,
I am no nearer to my goal.

Oh, no path is going to lead there,
Oh the sky above me
Is not going to touch the earth,
And 'there' is never 'here'.

Schiller, Der Pilgrim  D 794

Matt und krank / languid and sickly

Sunrise is not always glorious and golden. Overcast mornings can reflect (or reinforce) dark moods and inclinations.


Der Morgen blüht;
   Der Osten glüht;
Es lächelt aus dem dünnen Flor
Die Sonne matt und krank hervor,
   Denn, ach, mein Liebling flieht!

Morning is blossoming,
The East is glowing;
Smiling out of the fine veil of mist
Is the sun, languid and sickly.
Because, oh no, my darling has fled!

Kosegarten, Von Ida  D 228

Morning storms can echo inner turbulence, as in Winterreise:


Wie hat der Sturm zerrissen
Des Himmels graues Kleid,
Die Wolkenfetzen flattern
Umher im mattem Streit.

Und rote Feuerflammen
Ziehn zwischen ihnen hin,
Das nenn ich einen Morgen
So recht nach meinem Sinn.

Mein Herz sieht an dem Himmel
Gemahlt sein eignes Bild,
Es ist nichts als der Winter,
Der Winter kalt und wild.

How the storm has ripped
The grey clothing of the sky!
The tattered clouds are flapping
Around in a weary struggle.

And red flames of fire
Are moving amongst them.
That is what I call a morning
Exactly in accord with my mood!

My heart looks at the sky
And sees its own image painted there - 
It is nothing other then winter,
Winter cold and savage!


Müller, Der stürmische Morgen  D 911 18

Ein ungestillt Verlangen  / An unassuaged longing

The colossal statue of Memnon near Luxor in Thebes used to make an eerie singing noise as the sun rose each day. According to some legends he was calling out a greeting to his mother, Aurora, the goddess of the morning. Tourists in the ancient world used to come to marvel at this daily hymn of praise. What, though, if it was no such thing? What if Memnon’s daily opportunity to speak was his chance to lament, to give inarticulate voice to an impossible longing? What if he had been totally misunderstood? This character, so fully earth-bound and restricted, perhaps had yearnings to rise to the level of the stars.

This is the perspective of Johann Mayrhofer’s Memnon (Schubert’s D 541). We are allowed to hear the inner desires and frustrations of a character whose limited utterances are otherwise so totally misinterpreted, the longings for a broader realm of freedom from the point of view of someone hemmed in by convention and unbending conformity. A poet in Metternich’s Vienna, a liberal believer in freedom of speech who worked as a censor.


Den Tag hindurch nur einmahl mag ich sprechen, 
Gewohnt zu schweigen immer, und zu trauern, 
Wenn durch die nachtgebornen Nebelmauern 
Aurorens Purpurstrahlen liebend brechen.  

Für Menschenohren sind es Harmonien. 
Weil ich die Klage selbst melodisch künde, 
Und durch der Dichtung Glut das Rauhe ründe, 
Vermuten sie in mir ein selig Blühen.  

In mir, nach dem des Todes Arme langen, 
In dessen tiefstem Herzen Schlangen wühlen,
Genährt von meinen schmerzlichen Gefühlen,
Fast wütend durch ein ungestillt Verlangen:  

Mit dir, des Morgens Göttin, mich zu einen, 
Und weit von diesem nichtigen Getriebe, 
Aus Sphären edler Freiheit, reiner Liebe, 
Ein stiller bleicher Stern herab zu scheinen.

In the course of the day I am only allowed to speak once,
I am used to being silent all the time, and to mourning:
When, through the walls of mist that were born during the night
Aurora's crimson rays lovingly break.

To human ears they are harmonies.
Because I proclaim the lament so melodically myself,
And through the glow of poetry I take off the roughness,
They suppose that what is happening inside me is a happy blossoming.

Inside me - to whom death is reaching out its arms,
Within the depth of whose heart serpents are burrowing;
Nourished by my painful feelings - 
Almost driven to distraction by a single, unappeased craving:

To unite myself with you, goddess of the morning,
And, far from this pointless bustle,
Out of spheres of noble freedom, pure love,
To shine down as a quiet, pale star.

Mayrhofer, Memnon  D 541

A surprising number of Schubert’s morning songs are devoted to this sort of unassuaged longing. The connection between ‘dawn’ and ‘yearning’ might be something to do with the daily reminder of the constraints of the human condition. As Theodor Körner put it, ‘love’s longing never sleeps’. For other writers, though, the root cause of the yearning was not necessarily love or desire:


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.

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.

Körner, Sehnsucht der Liebe  D 180

Wann, o lächelndes Bild, welches wie Morgenrot
Durch die Seele mir strahlt, find ich auf Erden dich?
   Und die einsame Träne
      Bebt mir heißer die Wang herab.

When, oh smiling image, which, like dawn
Is shining through my soul, when shall I find you on earth?
And the single tear
Feels hotter as it trembles down my cheek.

Hölty, Die Mainacht  D 194

Über Tal und Fluss getragen,
Ziehet rein der Sonne Wagen.
Ach! sie regt in ihrem Lauf,
So wie deine, meine Schmerzen,
Tief im Herzen,
Immer morgens wieder auf.

Carried over valley and river,
The chariot of the sun is pulled along.
Oh, as it goes past it stirs up
Pain for both you and me,
Deep in the heart,
Always stirred up again each morning.

Goethe, An Mignon  D 161

Im Morgenstrahl des Mai’n / In the morning beams of May

If we are depressed, every morning will be the same. Each dawn will remind us of our lack of an inner fire. If we are traumatised, there is a chance that every sunrise will reanimate our mental anguish. However, for other people, some mornings are different from others. This is particularly the case as winter gives way to spring, when change is in the air.


Ein jugendlicher Maienschwung
 Durchwebt wie Morgendämmerung
      Auf das allmächtige Werde
      Luft, Himmel, Meer und Erde.

A youthful surge of May
Is woven through, like dawn,
On the almighty becoming,
Air, heaven, sea and earth.

Schiller, Ein jugendlicher Maienschwung  D 61

Lasst im Morgenstrahl des Mai'n
Uns der Blume Leben freun,
Eh' ihr Duft entweichet!

In the morning beams of May let
Us enjoy the flower of life
Before its scent fades!

von Deinhardstein, Skolie  D 306

A number of writers invoked classical figures to celebrate the new life of a spring morning. Matthias Claudius connected the month of May with the attributes of the Greek god Dionysus, and Goethe rewrote the myth of Jupiter selecting Ganymede to be his cup-bearer as an attempt to understand the surging forces embracing humanity on a spring morning.


Heute will ich fröhlich, fröhlich sein,
   Keine Weis' und keine Sitte hören,
Will mich wälzen und für Freude schrein,
   Und der König soll mir das nicht wehren.

Denn er kommt mit seiner Freuden Schar
   Heute aus der Morgenröte Hallen,
Einen Blumenkranz um Brust und Haar,
   Und auf seiner Schulter Nachtigallen.

Und sein Antlitz ist ihm rot und weiß,
   Und er träuft von Tau und Duft und Segen -
Ha! mein Thyrsus sei ein Knospenreis,
   Und so tauml' ich meinen Freund entgegen.

Today I am going to be really, really cheerful,
I am not going to listen to any preaching or moralizing,
I want to throw myself around and cry for joy,
And not even the King will be able to stop me;

For HE is arriving with his band of joys,
Today, out of the Halls of Dawn,
With a garland of flowers around his chest and hair,
And on his shoulder there are nightingales;

And his visage appears to be both red and white,
And trickling from him there is dew and scent and blessings - 
Ha! may my thyrsus be a budding sprig,
So that I can stagger towards my friend.

Claudius, Am ersten Maimorgen (On the first morning of May)  D 344

Wie im Morgenglanze 
Du rings mich anglühst, 
Frühling, Geliebter! 
Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne 
Sich an mein Herze drängt 
Deiner ewigen Wärme 
Heilig Gefühl, 
Unendliche Schöne!  

Dass ich dich fassen möcht
In diesen Arm!  

Ach an deinem Busen 
Lieg' ich, und schmachte, 
Und deine Blumen, dein Gras 
Drängen sich an mein Herz. 
Du kühlst den brennenden 
Durst meines Busens, 
Lieblicher Morgenwind! 
Ruft drein die Nachtigall 
Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebeltal. 
Ich komm! ich komme! 
Wohin? Ach, wohin?  

Hinauf! Hinauf strebt's. 
Es schweben die Wolken 
Abwärts, die Wolken 
Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe. 
Mir! Mir! 
In eurem Schoße 
Aufwärts! 
Umfangend umfangen! 
Aufwärts an deinen Busen, 
Alliebender Vater!

In the glow of the morning, how
You are heating things up around me,
Spring, beloved!
With a thousand-fold loving bliss,
Pressing onto my heart is
Your eternal warmth's
Sacred feeling,
Endless beauty!

If only I could get hold of you
In these arms!

Oh, on your breast
I am lying and languishing,
And your flowers, your grass
Are pushing themselves towards my heart.
You cool the burning
Thirst of my breast,
Lovely morning wind!
The nightingales are calling down
Lovingly towards me out of the misty valley.
I am coming, I am coming!
Where to? Oh, where to?

Up! There is a striving up.
The clouds are floating
Down, the clouds
Are bending down to this yearning love.
To me! To me!
Into your lap,
Upwards!
Embracing embraced!
Upwards to your breast,
All-loving father!

Goethe, Ganymed  D 544

Ich schweb im Morgenrot / I am hovering in the red light of dawn

Goethe’s Ganymed experienced a form of metamorphosis. The more conventional Christian version of this concept was ‘transfiguration’, or, in German ‘Verklärung’. This was the title that Herder gave to his translation of Alexander Pope’s ‘The Dying Christian to his Soul’ (Schubert’s D 59). Herder’s translation of the final stanza of this text about death and resurrection introduced an image not present in Pope’s original: ‘hovering in the red light of dawn’:


Die Welt entweicht, sie ist nicht mehr.
Engel-Einklang um mich her!
Ich schweb im Morgenrot.
Leiht, o leiht mir eure Schwingen,
Ihr Brüder, Geister! helft mir singen:  
"O Grab, wo ist dein Sieg? Wo ist dein Pfeil, o Tod?"

The world is escaping! It is no more!
Angelic harmonies all around me!
I am hovering in the red light of dawn!
Lend me, oh lend me your wings,
Brother spirits! help me sing:
"Oh grave, where is your victory? Where is your arrow, oh death?"

Pope:

The world recedes; it disappears!
Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy Victory?
O Death! where is thy Sting?

Pope / Herder, Verklärung  D 59

Heise wrote his Morgenlied (Morning song) for the use of schoolchildren, so he was keen to encourage a positive attitude to daily life on earth (renewed each morning) alongside a promise of an even more beautiful dawn in the afterlife.


Die frohe neu belebte Flur 
Singt ihrem Schöpfer Dank. 
O, Herr und Vater der Natur, 
Dir tön' auch mein Gesang. 

Der Lebensfreuden schenkst du viel 
Dem, der sich weislich freut. 
Dies sei, o Vater, stets das Ziel 
Bei meiner Fröhlichkeit.  

Ich kann mich noch des Lebens freun 
In dieser schönen Welt,
Mein Herz soll dem geheiligt sein 
Der weislich sie erhält.  

Wenn dann mir Müden winkt der Tod 
Zur bessern Welt zu gehn, 
So bricht ein schön'res Morgenrot
Mir an beim Auferstehen.

The happy revivified ground
Is singing its creator's thanks.
O Lord and Father of nature,
Let me too sing you my song!

You send many joys in life
To those who take wise pleasure.
Let this, oh father, always be the goal
Of my contentment.

I can still enjoy life
In this beautiful world;
May my heart treat as sacred
That which it receives wisely.

When, later, death gestures towards me in my tiredness,
Taking me to a better world,
Then an even more beautiful dawn will break
Over me at the resurrection.

Heise, Morgenlied  D 381

A similar tone is struck by Stolberg in another poem called Morgenlied. Here too there is joy in normal, day-to-day experience and nature alongside a hope for new life in another dimension.


Willkommen, rotes Morgenlicht!
   Es grüßet dich mein Geist,
Der durch des Schlafes Hülle bricht
   Und seinen Schöpfer preist.

Willkommen, goldner Morgenstrahl,
   Der schon den Berg begrüßt
Und bald im stillen Quellental
   Die kleine Blume küsst!

O Sonne, sei mir Gottes Bild,
   Der täglich dich erneut,
Der immer hehr, und immer mild,
   Die ganze Welt erfreut.

Der, wie die Blum' im Quellental,
   O Sonne, dich erschuf,
Als deine Schwestern allzumal
   Entflammten seinem Ruf.

Ihr wandelt auf bestimmter Bahn
   Einher und strauchelt nicht;
Denn Gottes Odem haucht euch an,
   Sein Aug' ist euer Licht.

Er leitet euch am Gängelband,
   Heil mir! Er führt auch mich!
Er, der Orions Gürtel band,
   Verband auch mich mit sich!

Er leitet jeden, der ihm traut,
   Mit unsichtbarer Hand,
Als wär er nur ihm anvertraut,
   An seinem Gängelband!

Die Sonne steiget! Weib und Kind
   Erwacht! erwacht wie sie!
Erwachet! werfen wir geschwind 
   Uns alle hin auf's Knie!

Und dann zur Tagesarbeit, frisch!
   Sein Segen leuchtet hell!
Der Herr bereitet unsern Tisch,
   Uns quillt der Freude Quell!

Uns strahlet Gottes Herrlichkeit
   Auch aus der Unsern Gruft;
Wir wissen, wer zur Seligkeit
   Sie rief und bald uns ruft!

Dem sind auch seine Toten nah,
   Wer Gott, den Herren, preist
Und freudig im Halleluja 
   Sich dieser Welt entreißt.


Welcome, red light of morning!
My spirit greets you, 
Breaking through the cover of sleep
And praising its creator.

Welcome, golden ray of morning,
Which is already greeting the mountain,
And which, in the quiet valley with the spring, will soon
Be kissing the small flower!

Oh sun, be the image of God for me,
He who renews you every day,
Always sublime and always gentle,
Bringing joy to the whole world.

He who, like the flower in the valley with the spring
Created you, oh sun,
When all your sisters at the same time
Were set ablaze at his command.

You follow a prescribed course
Moving along without stumbling;
For the breath of God breathes on you,
It is his eye that is your light.

He keeps you on a tight rein,
Which bodes well for me! He is also leading me!
He who tied Orion's belt
Also tied me up with himself!

He guides everyone who trusts him
With an invisible hand,
As if he were the only one entrusted
To his reins!

The sun is climbing! Women and children,
Wake up! Wake up like them!
Wake up! let us immediately throw
Ourselves down onto our knees!

And then, fresh, onto our day's work,
His blessing shines bright!
The Lord is preparing our table.
The source of joy is welling up for us!

God's Lordship is shining onto us,
Even from our tomb;
We know who the grave has called to happiness
And that it will soon call us!

Its dead are also close to God's Lordship,
Those who extol the Lord God
And joyfully, with a Halleluja,
Cut themselves off from this world.

zu Stolberg-Stolberg, Morgenlied  D 266

☙

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