Love
(Poet's title: Die Liebe)
Set by Schubert:
D 522
[January 1817]
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist?
Er weht in Blum und Baum,
Im weiten Erdenraum;
Er weht, wo sich die Knospen spalten,
Und wo die Blümlein sich entfalten.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist?
Er weht im Abendglanz,
Er weht im Sternenkranz;
Wo Bien’ und Maienkäfer schwirren,
Und zart die Turteltauben girren.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist?
Er weht, bei Freud und Schmerz
In aller Mütter Herz;
Er weht in jungen Nachtigallen,
Wenn lieblich ihre Lieder schallen.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist?
In Wasser, Feuer, Luft
Und in des Morgens Duft;
Er weht, wo sich ein Leben reget,
Und wo sich nur ein Herz beweget.
Where is the noble spirit of love stirring? . . .
It is stirring in flowers and trees,
In the broad space around the earth;
It stirs where buds burst open,
And where little flowers unfurl.
Where is the noble spirit of love stirring? . . .
It is stirring in the glow of evening,
It is stirring in the circle of the stars;
Where bees and May bugs buzz,
And where turtle doves coo tenderly.
Where is the noble spirit of love stirring? . . .
It is stirring alongside both joy and sorrow,
In the hearts of all mothers;
It stirs in young nightingales,
When their songs lovingly ring out.
Where is the noble spirit of love stirring? . . .
In water, fire, air
And in the fragrance of the morning;
It stirs where-ever there is a trace of life,
And where-ever a single heart is moved.
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:
Air Bees and honey Beetles and other insects Buds Doves and pigeons The earth Evening and the setting sun Fire Flowers Hearts High, low and deep Joy Morning and morning songs Mother and child Narrow and wide Nightingales, Philomel Pain Smells Space Stars Trees (general) Wreaths and garlands
Tell me, where is Fancy bred? Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies: Let us all ring Fancy's knell. I'll begin it. Ding, dong, bell. Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice Act III Scene 2 Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian, Or boom like a military band? Could one give a first-rate imitation On a saw or a Steinway Grand? Is its singing at parties a riot? Does it only like Classical stuff? Will it stop when one wants to be quiet? O tell me the truth about love. From, W. H. Auden, "O tell me the truth about love" • What is this thing called love? • What is this thing called, love? • What is this thing called? Love. • What? Is this thing called love? "Guide to punctuation in English"
There is something about the nature of love, and our uncertainties in connection with it, which elicits this sort of question / response approach. It was ever thus. In Plato’s Symposium (4th Century BCE) people took it in turns to explain their idea of the nature of love and where desire comes from, but the major contribution was made by Socrates, who approached the topic by asking questions rather than by making assertions.
It is a genuine question. If we are not in love, we wonder what it is that everyone else is talking about (and why we are not experiencing it). If we ARE in love, we are perhaps even less certain. What has happened to me? Is it real or a delusion? Will it last? Ultimately, it comes down to a question of definition. What IS it? Is THIS it?
Successful definitions work by setting limits, by explaining what is not included in the phenomenon being defined (the very word ‘definition’ centres around finite limits: x is NOT y). The problem with love seems to be that it is so difficult to know what to exclude. Leon’s text (or at least Felner’s Schwabian original) appears to take the approach that love is more or less anything. It can be found anywhere. The first stanza points us towards the most popular places in poetry where it can be found: in trees and flowers, in particular in unfurling buds, which seem to speak so eloquently of the whole world of potential delight that bursts open at the moment when the beloved opens up to the lover. Stanza two reminds us of some other standard images of lyric poetry: sunset and the stars, buzzing insects and (inevitably) cooing turtle doves, that image of fidelity and mutuality used to reinforce the ideology of heterosexuality and monogamy. Notice, by the way, the absence of partner-eating Mantis spiders and of gay penguins, whose exclusion (even if not deliberate) could be used to construct a definition of true ‘love’.
Stanza three introduces what might seem to be a surprising idea, that love is present as much in pain as in joy. A moment’s reflection reminds us of the wisdom of the point. “Grief is the price we pay for love” (Queen Elizabeth II’s comment to mourners after the attacks of September 11th 2001) is another way of saying the same thing. The poem then goes on to include motherly love in the definition and evokes another standard poetic image from nature: the nightingale and its song. The final stanza widens the definition beyond the bounds of these conventional symbols and insists that love is universal and ubiquitous. The attempt at definition has failed. In the end nothing can be excluded. Wherever there is a trace of feeling, there is love. The nightingale’s song should not be heard as a criticism of the more limited musical (or emotional) capacities of other bird species (such as cuckoos[1]); rather it points to the presence of love in all natural communication. We recall that in stanza 2 love is said to be heard in the buzzing of bees and beetles. If we can take these specific examples as representative of many, many more living things, then our ears and eyes will be opened up to the presence of love everywhere. The attempt at de-finition has failed. There is not anything that love is not; there is not anywhere where it is absent.
1[1] cf. ‘Lob des hohen Verstandes’ from ‘Des Knaben Wunderhorn’ (set by Mahler)
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Original Spelling Die Liebe Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? ... Er weht in Blum' und Baum, Im weiten Erdenraum; Er weht, wo sich die Knospen spalten, Und wo die Blümlein sich entfalten. Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? ... Er weht im Abendglanz, Er weht im Sternenkranz; Wo Bien' und Mayenkäfer schwirren, Und zart die Turteltauben girren. Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? ... Er weht, bey Freud' und Schmerz, In aller Mütter Herz; Er weht in jungen Nachtigallen, Wenn lieblich ihre Lieder schallen. Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? ... In Wasser, Feuer, Luft, Und in des Morgens Duft; Er weht, wo sich ein Leben reget, Und wo sich nur ein Herz beweget.
Leon’s poem is based on a text in Alemmanic (Schwabian) by Ignaz Felner, first published in 1803:
Felner
Wo weiht der Liebi schöne Geist?
Er weiht in Bluem und Baum
im wiiten Erdballs-Raum;
er weiht, vo d’Chnospe si verspalte,
und wo die Bluemli si entfalte.
Wo weiht der Liebi schöne Geist?
Er weiht im Obed-Glanz,
er weiht im Sterne-Kranz,
und wo die Meye-Chäfer schnurre,
und wo die süeßen Immli surre.
Wo weiht der Liebi schöne Geist?
Er weiht by Freud und Scherz,
und in mi’ir Muetter Herz;
er weiht by junge Nachtigalle,
wenn lieblig ihre Gsäng erschalle.
Wo weiht der Liebi schöne Geist?
Im Wasser, Füür und Luft,
und in dem Morge-Duft;
er weiht, wo si e Lebe reget,
und wo si nur e Herz biweget.
Leon
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? …
Er weht im Blum’ und Baum,
Im weiten Erdenraum;
Er weht, wo sich die Knospen spalten,
Und wo die Blümlein sich entfalten.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? …
Er weht im Abendglanz,
Er weht im Sternenkranz;
Wo Bien’ und Mayenkäfer schwirren,
Und zart die Turteltauben girren.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? …
Er weht, bey Freud’ und Schmerz,
In aller Mütter Herz;
Er weht in jungen Nachtigallen,
Wenn lieblich ihre Lieder schallen.
Wo weht der Liebe hoher Geist? …
In Wasser, Feuer, Luft,
Und in des Morgens Duft;
Er weht, wo sich ein Leben reget,
Und wo sich nur ein Herz beweget.
Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Neue Allemannische Gedichte. Von Ignaz Felner, Professor. Basel 1803 im Verlage bey Samuel Flick, pages 110-111.
Leon’s text confirmed by Peter Rastl with Schubert’s source, Selam. Ein Almanach für Freunde des Mannigfaltigen auf das Jahr 1813. Herausgegeben von I.F.Castelli. Wien, gedruckt und im Verlage bey Anton Strauß, page 240.
To see an early edition of the text, go to page 240 [296 von 342] here: http://digital.onb.ac.at/OnbViewer/viewer.faces?doc=ABO_%2BZ255496507