Poems Without Frontiers

Poems in Translation

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe







Das Heidenröslein
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Sah ein Knab ein Röslein stehn,
Röslein auf der Heiden,
War so jung und morgenschön,
Lief er schnell, es nah zu sehn,
Sah's mit vielen Freuden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.

Knabe sprach: Ich breche dich,
Röslein auf der Heiden!
Röslein sprach: Ich steche dich,
Daß du ewig denkst an mich,
Und ich will's nicht leiden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.

Und der wilde Knabe brach
's Röslein auf der Heiden;
Röslein wehrte sich und stach,
Half ihr doch kein Weh und Ach,
Mußt' es eben leiden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.



Little Rose Upon The Heath
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

A boy saw a little rose growing,
Little Rose upon the heath,
So young with morning beauty,
He ran quickly to see it close,
Looked with so much joy.
Little rose, little rose, little rose red,
Little rose upon the heath.

The boy spoke: "I will pluck you,
Little rose upon the heath".
The little rose spoke: "I will prick you
So that you will think of me for ever
And no cares will I have".
Little rose, little rose, little rose red,
Little rose upon the heath.

And the unruly boy plucked
The little rose upon the heath;
The little rose defended itself and pricked
But no woe or fuss could help it
It just had to suffer.
Little rose, little rose, little rose red,
Little rose upon the heath.

Translation: © David Paley




Rosebud in the Heather
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(Singable to the Schubert Melody)

Once a boy a rosebud saw,
Rosebud in the heather,
And so young and beautiful
Fast he ran to see it close
Looked with joyful feelings
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud in the heather.

Spoke the boy: "Now I'll pluck you,
Rosebud in the heather".
Rosebud spoke: "I'll prick you yet
So you'll always think of me,
And no cares will I have".
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud in the heather.

And that wild young boy did pluck
The rosebud in the heather,
Rosebud fought and then it pricked
But no woe or fuss could help,
It just had to suffer.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud in the heather.

Translation: © David Paley