Der Neugierige, D 795/6

Being inquisitive

(Poet's title: Der Neugierige)

Part of  Die schöne Müllerin, D 795 

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The young man is not totally deluded. He is sufficiently self-aware to realise that he has no expertise in interpreting the signficance of flowers or patterns in the stars. When he explains that ‘the stars are too high up’ it might not mean that he has fully grasped the astronomical principles that invalidate astrology (such as the fact that the light of the stars that we see probably set off on its journey long before we were born, so it is unlikely it is conveying a message that relates to us personally). However, he is admitting to himself that the realm of the stars is beyond him. Similarly, only specialists can read ‘the language of flowers’. Perhaps he is also admitting that he has grown up; he is too old to play the childish games of pulling petals off flowers, blowing dandelion seeds or looking for the reflections of buttercups to ask ‘she loves me?’ or ‘she loves me not?’.

He therefore turns to his old friend, the river, in search of answers. ‘O Bächlein meiner Liebe’, he says, with eloquent ambiguity. It is undoubtedly the little brook that is connected with his being in love (‘meiner Liebe’), but is it also the river that belongs to his beloved (‘meiner Liebe’). Is it something they share? He demands a categorical answer. Yes or No. The river’s silence and its refusal to answer in the categorical terms that he has specified is something he finds difficult to deal with. He cannot allow himself to think that the river is simply an inanimate stream, devoid of personal meaning. The refusal to answer is deliberately odd behaviour (‘Was bist du wunderlich!’) rather than evidence that he is overinterpreting things. Although part of him knows that he might be deluded, even more of him is unwilling to admit it. He is far from alone in being swayed by this sort of ‘confirmation bias’.

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Original Spelling

Der Neugierige

Ich frage keine Blume,
Ich frage keinen Stern,
Sie können mir alle nicht sagen,
Was ich erführ' so gern.

Ich bin ja auch kein Gärtner,
Die Sterne stehn zu hoch;
Mein Bächlein will ich fragen,
Ob mich mein Herz belog.

O Bächlein meiner Liebe,
Wie bist du heut so stumm!
Will ja nur Eines wissen,
E i n  Wörtchen um und um.

Ja, heißt das eine Wörtchen,
Das andre heißet Nein,
Die beiden Wörtchen schließen
Die ganze Welt mir ein.

O Bächlein meiner Liebe,
Was bist du wunderlich!
Will's ja nicht weiter sagen,
Sag', Bächlein, liebt sie mich?

Confirmed with Gedichte aus den hinterlassenen Papieren eines reisenden Waldhornisten. Herausgegeben von Wilhelm Müller. Erstes Bändchen. Zweite Auflage. Deßau 1826. Bei Christian Georg Ackermann, pages 14-15; and with Sieben und siebzig Gedichte aus den hinterlassenen Papieren eines reisenden Waldhornisten. Herausgegeben von Wilhelm Müller. Dessau, 1821. Bei Christian Georg Ackermann, pages 15-16.

First published in a slightly different version with the title Am Bach in Der Gesellschafter oder Blätter für Geist und Herz. Herausgegeben von F. W. Gubitz. Zweiter Jahrgang. Berlin, 1818. In der Maurerschen Buchhandlung. Montag den 25. Mai. 83stes Blatt, page 329.

To see an early edition of the text go to page 15 Erstes Bild 26 here: https://download.digitale-sammlungen.de/BOOKS/download.pl?id=bsb10115224