Here is the piece by Brahms I posted last week, again, it's a masterpiece and stands up to more than one hearing. I should have posted a translation, the pictures on the video didn't really get the idea across.
1. Ernst ist der Herbst.
Und wenn die Blätter fallen,
sinkt auch das Herz zu trübem Weh herab.
Still ist die Flur,
und nach dem Süden wallen
die Sänger stumm, wie nach dem Grab.
2. Bleich ist der Tag,
und blasse Nebel schleiern
die Sonne wie die Herzen ein.
Früh kommt die Nacht:
denn alle Kräfte feiern,
und tief verschlossen ruht das Sein.
3. Sanft wird der Mensch.
Er sieht die Sonne sinken,
er ahnt des Lebens wie des Jahres Schluß.
Feucht wird das Aug’,
doch in der Träne Blinken
entströmt des Herzens seligster Erguß.
Still ist die Flur,
und nach dem Süden wallen
die Sänger stumm, wie nach dem Grab.
2. Bleich ist der Tag,
und blasse Nebel schleiern
die Sonne wie die Herzen ein.
Früh kommt die Nacht:
denn alle Kräfte feiern,
und tief verschlossen ruht das Sein.
3. Sanft wird der Mensch.
Er sieht die Sonne sinken,
er ahnt des Lebens wie des Jahres Schluß.
Feucht wird das Aug’,
doch in der Träne Blinken
entströmt des Herzens seligster Erguß.
English translation
1. Autumn is sad.
And when the leaves are falling,
sinks too the heart in troubled grief to lave.
Still is the field,
and flown to Southwinds calling,
are songsters, still, as to the grave.
2. Drear is the day,
and pallid clouds are veiling,
the sunlight as the spirit free.
Soon comes the night:
then rest all powers empaling,
oblivion falls on all that be.
3. Tender grows man.
He sees the sun declining,
divines that life too as the year, must close.
Moist are the eyes
but thro’ the teardrops shining,
outflows the heart and holiest solace knows.
And when the leaves are falling,
sinks too the heart in troubled grief to lave.
Still is the field,
and flown to Southwinds calling,
are songsters, still, as to the grave.
2. Drear is the day,
and pallid clouds are veiling,
the sunlight as the spirit free.
Soon comes the night:
then rest all powers empaling,
oblivion falls on all that be.
3. Tender grows man.
He sees the sun declining,
divines that life too as the year, must close.
Moist are the eyes
but thro’ the teardrops shining,
outflows the heart and holiest solace knows.
The poet, Klaus Groth isn't someone I was at all familiar with, probably because he wrote his poetry in "Low German" which I can't read, perhaps something I have in common with a lot of Germans because, if I'm not mistaken, Brahms' many settings of his poetry are in standard German translation. I believe Brahms knew "Low German", though I'm not certain.
I hadn't ever noticed that Groth's poetry accounted for a very large percentage of Brahms' song settings. It was interesting reading this weekend that his friendship with Groth was very likely Brahms' longest lasting and least tumultuous relationship, over four decades. Given how turbulent Brahms' friendships could be and how many of them ended with some bitter words from him (which he sometimes deeply regretted later) that makes him worth looking at more closely. Here's a Klaus Groth website with a number of translations of his poetry. This one is especially interesting for people from the US, Low German in Chicago.
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