Morning kiss
(Poet's title: Morgengruß)
Set by Schubert:
D 795/8
[October-November 1823]
Part of Die schöne Müllerin, D 795
Guten Morgen, schöne Müllerin,
Wo steckst du gleich das Köpfchen hin,
Als wär dir was geschehen?
Verdrießt dich denn mein Gruß so schwer?
Verstört dich denn mein Blick so sehr?
So muss ich wieder gehen.
O lass mich nur von ferne stehn,
Nach deinem lieben Fenster sehn,
Von ferne, ganz von ferne!
Du blondes Köpfchen komm hervor,
Hervor aus eurem runden Tor
Ihr blauen Morgensterne!
Ihr schlummertrunknen Äugelein,
Ihr taubetrübten Blümelein,
Was scheuet ihr die Sonne?
Hat es die Nacht so gut gemeint,
Dass ihr euch schließt und bückt und weint
Nach ihrer stillen Wonne?
Nun schüttelt ab der Träume Flor
Und hebt euch frisch und frei empor
In Gottes hellen Morgen!
Die Lerche wirbelt in der Luft,
Und aus dem tiefen Herzen ruft
Die Liebe Leid und Sorgen.
Good morning, beautiful mill girl!
Where are you trying to hide your lovely head
As if something had happened to you?
So, does my greeting annoy you so much?
So, does the sight of me disturb you so much?
I shall therefore have to go away again.
Oh, just let me stand at a distance and
Look towards your lovely window,
From a distance, from a long way away!
You lovely blond head, come out!
Come out of your round sockets
You blue morning stars!
Lovely eyes that are drunk with sleep,
Lovely flowers that have been saddened with dew,
Why are you avoiding the sun?
Was night so attractive to you
That you close your eyes, you bend over and weep
Over losing the silent bliss it offered?
It is now time to shake off the veil of dreams
And rise up fresh and lively
In God’s bright morning!
The lark is ascending into the air,
And of the depths of the heart I can hear the call of
Love’s pain and cares.
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:
Blue Dew Dreams Eyes Flowers Greetings Heads Hearts High, low and deep Larks Mills Morning and morning songs Near and far Night and the moon Pain Stars Tears and crying Waking up Windows
He is not really talking to her, of course. Such a junior worker at the mill would not dare address the boss’s daughter as ‘du’, and we have already learned (in Ungeduld) that he would feel much more comfortable writing than speaking. He admits at the beginning of Morgengruß that he needs to keep his distance and speak to her in his imagination.
The focus of his fantasy is her head, and her eyes in particular. The head that he has seen turn away from him (it is hardly surprising that she would do this) is actually referred to in affectionate / diminutive terms (‘das Köpfchen’, your lovely little head, ‘Du blondes Köpfchen’, Oh lovely blond head). Her blue eyes shining out of their sockets (literally ‘coming through the arched gateway’) become bright morning stars. They then become ‘dear little flowers’ that are saddened with dew. In other words, she has been crying. Yet, it is hard to avoid the feeling that he is no longer referring to the girls eyes, or to her emergence from sleep. It is HE who finds it difficult to adjust to the light of reality and who misses the comfort of dreams. He is aware of a bright morning around him, with the lark ascending, but he is even more aware of the cry emerging from the pain deep within himself. In attempting to address the miller girl he can only speak to and of himself.
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Original Spelling Morgengruß Guten Morgen, schöne Müllerin! Wo steckst du gleich das Köpfchen hin, Als wär' dir was geschehen? Verdrießt dich denn mein Gruß so schwer? Verstört dich denn mein Blick so sehr? So muß ich wieder gehen. O laß mich nur von ferne stehn, Nach deinem lieben Fenster sehn, Von ferne, ganz von ferne! Du blondes Köpfchen, komm hervor! Hervor aus eurem runden Thor, Ihr blauen Morgensterne! Ihr schlummertrunknen Äugelein, Ihr thaubetrübten Blümelein, Was scheuet ihr die Sonne? Hat es die Nacht so gut gemeint, Daß ihr euch schließt und bückt und weint Nach ihrer stillen Wonne? Nun schüttelt ab der Träume Flor, Und hebt euch frisch und frei empor In Gottes hellen Morgen! Die Lerche wirbelt in der Luft, Und aus dem tiefen Herzen ruft Die Liebe Leid und Sorgen.
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 21-22; and with Sieben und siebzig Gedichte aus den hinterlassenen Papieren eines reisenden Waldhornisten. Herausgegeben von Wilhelm Müller. Dessau, 1821. Bei Christian Georg Ackermann, pages 22-23.
To view an early edition of the text, go to page 22 Erstes Bild 32 here: https://download.digitale-sammlungen.de/BOOKS/download.pl?id=bsb10115224