Futile love
(Poet's title: Vergebliche Liebe)
Set by Schubert:
D 177
Schubert omitted the words in italics[April 6, 1815]
Ja, ich weiß es, diese treue Liebe
Hegt umsonst mein wundes Herz;
Wenn mir nur die kleinste Hoffnung bliebe,
Reich belohnet wär mein Schmerz!
Aber auch die Hoffnung ist vergebens,
Kenn ich doch ihr grausam Spiel.
Trotz der Treue meines heissen Strebens
Fliehet ewig mich das Ziel! –
Dennoch lieb ich, dennoch hoff ich immer,
Ohne Liebe, ohne Hoffnung treu!
Lassen kann ich diese Liebe nimmer,
Mit ihr bricht das Herz entzwei!
Yes, I know, this devoted love
Is something that my aching heart is cherishing to no purpose;
If only the tiniest hope remained for me
My pain would be richly rewarded!
But even hope is futile,
I am familiar with its cruel game!
Despite the persistence of my fervent striving,
The goal is forever flying from me!
Nevertheless I love, nevertheless I always hope
Without love or faithful hope;
I can never give up this love,
With it my heart is breaking in two!
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:
Breaking and shattering Eternity Fleeing Games and play Hearts Striving
The speaker is not just heartbroken: his heart has broken ‘apart’ or broken ‘in two’ (entzwei). The heart seems to have taken over and the rest of the ego (and what is left of the speaker’s rationality) can only look on helplessly as this futile obsession destroys any chance of restoring order. There is enough self-awareness to allow the speaker to acknowledge the problem but nothing like enough to allow a solution to be implemented.
Different models of the mind use a range of metaphors to picture such inner conflicts, but they nearly always revolve around the idea of battle or striving. Whether it is a traditional Christian fight between the temptations offered by the devil and the guidance of our guardian angels, or a Freudian battle over the middle ground of the ego between the id and superego, the fact remains that we experience these struggles using the discourse of warfare. Bernard’s poem portrays his ‘heart’ as the instigator of a civil war. It has fed and strengthened a passion that has now occupied the centre ground of the battlefield. The ‘mind’ is left with no weapons to defeat the occupying force and the speaker sees surrender as the only option. However, as with all civil wars, there can be no winner. The heart should never have taken up arms against the mind, since they both need each other. The result of the rebellion is a heart pulled apart. People who have known this experience know for a fact that the term ‘broken-hearted’ is not ‘just’ a metaphor.
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Original Spelling Vergebliche Liebe Ja, ich weiß es, diese treue Liebe Hegt umsonst mein wundes Herz; Wenn mir nur die kleinste Hoffnung bliebe: Reich belohnet wär' mein Schmerz! Aber auch die Hoffnung ist vergebens, Kenn' ich doch ihr grausam Spiel. Trotz der Treue meines heissen Strebens Fliehet ewig mich das Ziel! - Dennoch lieb' ich, dennoch hoff' ich immer Ohne Liebe, ohne Hoffnung treu; Lassen kann ich diese Liebe nimmer, Mit ihr bricht das Herz entzwey!
Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Schubert’s source, Selam. Ein Almanach für Freunde des Mannigfaltigen. Herausgegeben von I.F.Castelli. Dritter Jahrgang 1814. Wien, gedruckt und im Verlage bey Anton Strauß, page 199.
To see an early edition of the text, go to page 199 (243 von 384) here: http://digital.onb.ac.at/OnbViewer/viewer.faces?doc=ABO_%2BZ255496805