List of German ballads

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This list of German ballads is intended to help you find articles on known ballads . For this reason, the beginnings of the poems or some of the refrains are included - as far as they can be found.

Please do not copy the text into Wikipedia when creating the article . The right place for the texts is WikiSource .

A.

Titian: Actaeon
A man with a ribbon, / The knight Hardiknut, / Left the city and came to the country / How often the townspeople do.
Actaeon felled in the dark grove / The noble game, / Then saw a mild glow / The forest flood he illuminated.
Suddenly the messenger was among them, / thrown into the boiling over / of the wedding feast like a new addition.
Twelve judges drove through the storm. / Her boat lost sails and rudder. / They peered all around for land. / The sea remained without any answer.
The year is going by / The thread is unwinding. / Another hour, the last one today, / And dusting trickles into his grave, / What was once living time.
I stand on a high balcony by the tower, / Surrounded by the screaming starling, / And let the storm like a maenad / Dig my fluttering hair;
A lovely violet you bloomed hidden / In childlike seclusion / In your life harmlessly quiet morning / Unconscious of your kindness.
When the innkeeper of Passeier Innsbruck took a storm, / The students, for a celebration, come with the violins at noon,
The night folds its pale hands high over Russia's corpse desert; / sparkling through the white, wide, / cold silence stares the night and listens. / There is a shrill chime.
During the day there was a prophetic star in the east. / The demon's wings rustled around Apollo's forehead.
I wore it for seven years / and I can no longer wear it / wherever the world has been most beautiful / it was boring and empty.
In the middle of the snow of the north, / Far in the south, from the night, / In the order of the Annunciations / Reicher master costume:
Now the blackberry hedges turn green; / Here is a violet - what a party! / The blackbird looks for dry sticks, / And the chaffinch also builds its nest.
A noble servant had come out from Köllen / for a message / Engelbrecht held his father prisoner for him / the bishop.

B.

And children grow up with deep eyes, / Those who know nothing, grow up and die, / And all people go their own way.
Love asked love: "Say why are you crying?" / Whispered love to love: "Today is no longer the same as it used to be!"
Like every day through the twenty years / that he serves in his office / he gets up, runs his fingers through his hair, / coffee warms up on the rechaud
The child lay with feverish cheeks / the day rose gold sank into the leaves. / The window was full of wild wine / A strange youth looked in.
Was once a minstrel in merry Vienna / his name was Augustin, and wherever he appeared / people laughed and were very happy. / Wasn't anyone as funny as he was.
Your own horse, entangled with your own rope / You tied it back to back to your horse / That swooped wildly over home soil / Rushed into the darkening evening.
Of course the wheel keeps turning / that what is on top does not stay on top. / But for the water below that unfortunately means / Only: That the bike will keep drifting forever.
Sick by the sun and eaten away by the rain / Stolen laurel in his disheveled hair / Has he forgotten all his youth, just not their dreams / Long the roof, never the sky that was above.
Great from brandy and darkness / from unheard-of showers wet / torn by the frost of ice-white night / in the masthead, pale faces
With the calico skirt and the yellow cloth / And the eyes of the black lakes / Without money and talent and yet with enough / Of the black hair that she wore open / Up to the blacker toes:
The old Barbarossa, / The Emperor Friedrich, / In the underground castle / Holds he is enchanted.
Midnight was drawing nearer; / Babylon lay in silent rest.
Up on the rugged stone / Smokes in ruins Autafort, / And the lord of the castle stands tied up / In front of the king's tents there:
Prince Bertarit hosts Verona's beggars / With wheat bread and cake and fine grape juice. / Everyone who covers himself with rags is prayed, / Who, asking for the bridges of the Adige, stretches his right hand.
The emperor sits on a golden throne, / in a purple dress with a golden crown. / The glow of gold and jewels rests sparkling on silk pillows.
Bluebeard was a rich man, / had house and yard and garden, / feasted, drank, played cards, / lived like a tartarchan.
The armies stopped at the Rhine: / Should one go into France? / One thought now and then; / only old Blücher said:
It blew around Brienne / straight as on the threshing floor! / Napoleon held us to the rod: / That took Father Blücher too long.
The count comes home from the festival, / Then his servant wants to pass him. / "Holla, where did you come from? Say! / Where is your train going, my servant? "
How Queen Marie trembled, / When late through the secret gate / With unbent head and knees / Count Bothwell entered her room!
A young girl came to Baden / Brigitte B. was her name / found a job there in a shop / where she was well-marked.
Mr. Werner von Schulenburg zu Gartz in the Pomeranian region grunted: / "Willing to bend the stiff neck of the stubborn peasant gang!"

C.

Chidher, the forever young, said: / I drove past a town / A man in the garden broke fruit; / I asked how long has the city been here?
Those floating in veils and consecrated, / An ash-blonde candle, glowed: / Her eyes bloomed clear and pious, / Her hands grasped darkness
We dead, we dead are greater armies / than you on earth, than you on the sea!

D.

The …

Blind from old age, Bede nevertheless continued / Preaching the new good news.
The bricklayer comes out fresh to break you down; / there it is to me, you old house, / as if I heard you speak:
Berlin-Cölln was the name of the city / And it made a lot of noise / A musician once lived there / In fabulous times.
Over the Knüppeldamm through the bones field / by the desolate church drive past / seven farmers at night with drunken screams, / clap with whips and clatter in their pockets with money,
We do not know where the blessed heaven is, / And not where the gray throat of hell, / Whether the cloud also trembles in the light, / Whether the mouth of Vulcan is boiling and smoking;
Are the nights so humid in April? / Or is virgin blood so boiling? / She closes her eyelashes, she lies so still, / And listens to the pounding tide of the heart.
A skipper drove across the lake / you will certainly not know her; / but that she does not stand nameless before you ': / so I will call her Bionda.
He stands in bitter agony at her psyche, / he must see the young bosom panting - / he is a doctor. He knows his husband / wife turns pale as soon as the morning showers blow.
The young lord of Edenhall / lets the sound of the celebratory trumpet rumble / He lifts himself up on the shelf of the table / And calls out to drunken guests: / "Now here with the happiness of Edenhall!"
Lisp at night at the Busento / dull songs at Cosenza; / Answer echoes from the waters, / and in eddies it sounds again!
At the time when the ears were cut / A knight was riding in the pastures / With a sparrowhawk and two dogs. / They soon found a game
O! Douglas, Douglas, proud and loyal. / John Home "Count Douglas, press the helmet into your hair, / Belt around your light blue sword,
Dark, dark in the moor / Night over the heather / Only the trickling pipe / Next to the mill watches,
Mrs. Nurse, Mrs. Nurse, the child is awake! / But she lies quietly in her sleep. / The birds chirp, the sun laughs, / The sheep graze on the hill.
The charcoal burner is drunk / And sings in the forest; / Hear how the voice growls / echoes in the green!
It went astray in the forest / A king's daughter / She cries aloud because it resounded / Deep into the forest.
"Here about this Franconian man whom we lead to you, / Mr. King Thorstein, listen to us and speak the verdict you. / ..."
A blacksmith had a little daughter / that couldn't be more beautiful or finer. / One day Hans came, / a fellow as there may be:
Once upon a time there was a poor child / It was blind in both eyes / blind in both eyes;
The song of the good man sounds high, / Like the sound of an organ and the sound of a bell. / Whoever can boast of high spirits / He is not worth gold, singing is worthwhile.
Firmly bricked in the earth / Stands the form, burned from clay. / Today the bell has to be. / Newcomers, be at hand.
A little maiden trudges on the Lützelalp, / nimble and free and clean every half. / Bar the head, feet and calves bare / And the little arms packed with the mail.
Castle Niedeck is well-known in Alsace from legend, / the height where the castle of the giants once stood; / it itself has now fallen into disrepair, the place is desolate and empty, / you ask about the giants, you can no longer find them.
A little ship gently pulls its tracks along the river; / Those who wander in are silent, / because no one knows the other.
Have you seen the castle / The high castle by the sea? / Golden and rosy wafts / The clouds over there.
King Erich probably moved up and down, / he came across a mighty barrow.
A gray day dawns through brightly painted windows. / The mayor of Prague is leaning against the table, pondering heavily.
My dear brother, when do we build a raft / and go down the sky? / My dear brother; soon the freight will be too big / and we'll go under
We hear it often and in the end we certainly believe it, / The human heart is eternally unfathomable, / And however one turns back and forth, / So be the Christian as the heathen sinful.
The gloomy legend goes about a cursed village: the houses are in ruins; / the bells cracked;
A young man who was passionately thirsty for knowledge / drove to Saïs in Egypt, the priest / to learn secret wisdom had / had already passed through many degrees with a quick mind;
All clocks were stopped. / No more day! was the watchword
At Andernach am Rheine / lies a deep sea; / There is no quieter than them / Under the sky above.
The servant rides in the back, the knight in front, / All around them the blooming grain billows ... / And as Mr. Attich looks down, / There lies a lovely child in the way / vaulted with flowers, they are dewed, / and he plays with the curls Wind.

Of the …

Don't you want to tend the lamb? / Little lamb is so pious and gentle, / feeds on the flowers of the grass / Playing by the brook Ranft.
We have a bed, we have a child, / my wife! / We also have work, and even for two, / and have the sun and rain and wind.
I am poor Kunrad / and come from near and far, / from Hartematt and Hungerrain / with a spit and a morning star.
Mr. Valentin went out in the evening / to the card table in the red dragon. / A good friend rushes into the house / to play another game with the young woman;
Shoot three thalers for my dog! / So the weather hits me right in the ground! / What do the gentlemen think of the police? / What's the trouble now?
Across Europe from west to east / the railway melody shakes and rattles. / Is it a matter of tasting bliss faster? / Does he arrive too late at the heavenly logis?
There is a black ghost in the moor; / That towers over bushes and trees. / It stands tall and stiff and mute; / Looks around lurking in circles.
In Kriebeln there used to be a lot of fire, / but once a little man comes with a red cap
Golden people, silver people! / If a rascal speaks of a Thoman, / Is it only about silver, / Is meant a silver thoman.
I am wandering alone in a desolate valley, / Staring around by cliff limestone, by dark pines; / There was not a sound to be heard in the high mountains, / Silently the night wrestled with the last rays of the sun.
Count Eulenfels was rich in gold, / but poor in joie de vivre, / just as the eagle owl growls lonely, / one saw him avoid people.
High judgment is held at boars / over life and blood; / Twelve chairs are prepared / Good for the twelve scoops.
Do you see the red cap at the little window / there again? / It doesn't have to be uneasy / For it is already going up and down.
The water rushed, the water swelled, / A fisherman sat by it, / Looked calmly at the fishing rod, / Cool to the heart.
What are the streets running up and down / the fathers that fear mothers? / “The sunshine was already falling, / the night is already graying in from the mountains; / where are the children staying for so long? "
In the west a pale line swims, / The evening star lights up / degrees above St. George at the gate; / The haze breathes heavily from the nearby moors.
A pious servant was Fridolin, / And in the fear of the Lord / Submission to the mistress, / The Countess of Savern.
Father and child died / rest deep in the grave / the mother has acquired / since then a different love.
Now be quiet! - You on the clap! / You left to the split tree! / And here the lazy ripper likes / Lie down on the edge of the cliff:
Once a little church beyond compare, / Another stone of his is there, / Gmünd built for the song-rich / Saint Cecilia.
"Eia Christmas! Eia Christmas! ”/ Sounds the boys' psalm in the cathedral choir. / Emperor Otto listens to Mette / servant behind him with donations and gifts.
Was once a bell founder / In Breslau in the city, / An honorable master, / Skilled in advice and action.
In the undergrowth, where heather and bullock herbs are densely packed, / the gnome lies and strokes his beard, / as a prince of the bearskins;
Mahadöh, the Lord of the earth, / Comes down for the sixth time / That he should become like us, / To sympathize with joy and torment.
Below endless nothing but water, / Above the sky, still and wide, / Only the pale land of the gods, / Lay in the solitude of the sea,
At Aachen, in his imperial splendor, / In the ancient hall, / Sat King Rudolf's holy power / At the festive coronation meal.
That was the Count of Thal, / So rode on the rock face; / That was his real husband / Who stood behind the stone.
Look, there stands the great Hecker, / a feather on his hat, / look, there stands the people awakening, / panting for the blood of tyrants!
I had a comrade / you won't find a better one. / The drum beat to the quarrel / He walked by my side / With the same step and step.
In front of his lion garden / waiting for the fighting game / sat King Franz, count pastime and hourly comrade
The Loreley, known as fairy and rocks, / is that spot on the Rhine, not far from Bingen, / where boatmen with twisted necks, / gushing about blond hair, used to go under.
The boy dreams that he will be sent away / With thirty talers to the heath place / He was slain on the way / And yet he was not slow and sluggish.
Saint Felix fled from the enemy; / but they followed his fleeting steps. / The pursuers were already close to him, / but nowhere was there a refuge / than the cave of the rock, which was easily discovered.
Two wicked fellows / sneaked into the chapel: / in jugs, in golden, consecrated ones, / stood the holy wine there.
Tunkomar and Teutelinde, / What an affectionate young couple. / He leisurely, she swiftly; / Fury her, he dromedary.
I move freely through villages and towns, / I move freely from house to house, / And to announce my office: / I think I will sow the heroes / For future battles.
I want to tell you a fairy tale, purringly: / There was once an emperor; the emperor was curious; / There was also once an abbot, a very handsome gentleman; / Just a shame! his shepherd was smarter than he was.
What are the people running, what is rolling there / The long streets roaring away? / Will Rhodus fall under fire? / It gathers in the storm
Oh dreadful to walk over the moor, / When it is teeming with heather smoke, / The fumes turn like phantoms / And the tendril crochets on the bush,
There was once a king in Thule, / Gar loyal to the grave, / To whom his lover / gave a golden cup as he died.
The old, gray king sits / On his fathers' thrones; / His cloak shines like the red of the sunset, / Like the setting sun the crown.
The old Fritz Leibkutscher is said to be made of stone / at Potsdamm on the stable - / there he drives along / as if he were alive:
They followed terribly; Throwing their colorful death / from afar at him while he / lost fled, nothing more than: threatened. / The distance from his fathers no longer seemed
In a hurry wanders into the forest / A young lady, graceful in shape.
A young monk from the Heisterbach / Lust wanders to the most distant place in the garden. / He meditates on eternity quietly and deeply, / And in doing so searches God's holy word.
Go to Pisa in the monastery garden / A gloomy monk, where flower stands by flower. / His face is pale with long grief, / You don't know who he was, where he came from.
At Würzburg there is a gray tower / far away from lusty Maine, / the worm pecks in its beams, / the moss gnaws on the stone.
The Wartburg rests in the dark, / the mountain forest groans in the storm, / only the twinkle of a light / glows faintly in the woman's tower;
What rolls so delicately, sounds so dearly up and down stairs in the castle? This is the Count's pastime and hourly companion
The sound of the harp sounds! / There stands the wild waterfall / Floats around with foam and waves / Den Nöck in the rainbow.
Recently in Lebanon in a monastery, / In it I stopped for a short journey, / Walking slowly through the cool halls, / I stopped in front of an old picture, / Well kept in my own chapel.
It's night and storms are raging for and for, / Hispanic monks, shut my door!
The May night was lovely, / Little silver wolves flew, / Whether the lovely spring splendor / Joyfully drawn.
Praise with many beautiful speeches / Your countries value and number, / Many German princes / Once at Worms sat in the Kaisersaal.
The rider rides through the bright valley, / on the snowfield the sun shimmers.
He stood on his battlements roof, / He looked with happy senses / On the ruled Samos.
“What do I hear outside the gate, / What is ringing on the bridge? / Let the singing echo in our ears / in the hall! "
In the high hall sat King Sifrid: / "Your harper, who knows the most beautiful song for me?" / And a young man stepped nimbly from the crowd, / the harp in his hand, the sword on his loin:
Carry me outside the tent with my ottoman! / I want to see him myself! - Today the caravan came / From Africa, you say, and with it the rumor?
Arm on the bag, sick in the heart, / I drag my long days. / Poverty is the greatest plague, / Wealth is the greatest good!
In a moonlit pond shine / Lies brooding like a water dragon / The castle with its jagged wreath, / With pinnacle moss and shed roof.
Master Olaf, the blacksmith on Heligoland, / was still standing in front of the anvil at midnight; / the wind howled loudly on the seashore, / then there was a powerful knock on his door.
In Krippstedt a tailor's boy / The mayor once pointed his tongue: / It was one thousand seven hundred in the year. / The mayor is very surprised
Pentecost was the feast of joy, / That is what the woods and heath celebrate. / Hub of the king to speak: / "Also from the halls / All of the old Hofburg / Should a rich spring break!"
Tremble the world, I am the plague, / I come to every country / and hold a great festival for myself, / my gaze is fever, fire-proof / and my clothes are black.
It goes with a muffled drum sound; / How far is the place! the way how long! / O he would be quiet and all over! / I think it'll break my heart in two!
He lay in the tightly curtained room / Where the gray sunbeam broke / On his bed of pain / The old sick general.
When I was once sitting in a garden near Salamanca / early in the morning / and at the stroke of the nightingales / busily read in Homerus:
Who dares, Rittersmann or Knapp, / To dive into this gullet? / I throw down a golden cup / the black mouth has already devoured it.
between the lines / to see / from the window of the / moving train / how the day chases the night / up the slope and / throws its spring light onto the river bed
Bognermeister Kasper is tormented by an angry woman / Soon she pinches him full of cunning, soon she blues his back / and does it very precisely.
At midnight, in Habsburg's old walls / a veiled man walks, puzzling to see! / You see him walking, linger now, and lurk - / then lift his foot and walk on.
The anger is steaming, the dysentery is boiling, / In the sharp east the stalks whistle, / It gently trots through the hallway, / It appears like streaks of fog,
At Cape Misenum a princely house / made of laurel tops beckons to the coast of the sea / with colonnades, mosaics, busts, / and every ostentatious device for feasts and feasts.
It was in Avignon at the carnival / That a murderer stole himself in the dance / And that the plague got lost in the dance / With a sloppy mummery.
Pastor, come! Your dinner table / Was excellent and the beer is fresh / And enough to add a few more puffs of smoke! - / Thanks, I'm already on fire! According to an old custom
The tower keeper, who looks on in the middle of the night / looking down at the graves in Lage; / The moon has brought everything into light: / The churchyard, it lies like daytime.
The boy creeps to the grave of the loved ones: / His heart is so anxious and heavy. / Then the dark night falls down, / and pale spirits wander about.
When this victory march resounds in my ear, / I hardly hold back the tears by force.
On beautiful summer days, when the air is warm, / The forests are green with merry, the gardens are blooming, / A hero of a proud kind rode out of Stuttgart's gates, / Count Eberhard der Greiner, the old bushy beard.
A [boy] 1 was cheeky enough / Had only come from France / He had hugged a poor maidel young / Often times;
The Lord, when he was still walking on earth, / once came to a crossroads with Saint Peter / and, unknown of the country / which he was roaming through, asked a farmhand / who was lazy, stretched out where the rain was split / in the shadow of a pear tree:
Did the old sorcerer / go away after all! / And now his spirits / shall also live according to my will.
The magician's maid sat in her room made of glass; / she spun by the bright candlelight / and sang into it as bright as a bell.

Of …

In the garden of the pastor of Taubenhain / If it goes wrong at night in the arbor. / It whispers and moans so fearfully; / There it rattles, it flutters and rests, / Like a pigeon against a falcon.
In the old days there was a castle, so high and noble, / It shines far across the land to the blue sea, / And around the fragrant gardens a flower-rich wreath, / Inside sprang fresh fountains with a rainbow glow.
Get up, get up! There is a knock on the house - / “Tip, tip!” - Who can that be? / The old ferryman goes out, / “Tip, tip!” - Who might that be?
It stands in the forest, in the deep forest / The Woiewoden's house; / Icicles hang cold on the roof / And snow covers the ground.

Deu - Dec

Like a winter thunderstorm a rolling hall, / Shot to pieces the mud wall of Bethlehem's stable.

The …

Unheard of, / On Lombok people were outraged, / On the island of Lombok the Balinese / They were dissatisfied with Mynheer.
DEAR AUDIENCE / don't knock us over / if we report silly things / because the silliest stories / god makes personal
Spring breezes lisped in the grove, / And a wolf in the silver moonlight, / Excited by lyrical feelings, / Stroke to rummage in his innermost being,
It's true: nothing works as quickly as poison! / Man, no matter how minor, / is at hand early on when it comes to the vices of this world / and incredibly docile.
A shopkeeper had a wife, / She was almost too gentle and mild for him, / Her hair too light, her eyes too blue, / At the same time her gaze was like the moon shield;
May on the trees, bouquets in the Hag. / After the forge, Janko rides early in the day. / Flurry of blossoms blesses its journey, / Lilies have mane, tail and beard on the horse,
Moved to Corinthus from Athens / came a young man, still unknown there. / He hopes a citizen has weighed himself; / Both fathers were related guests,
Luck, luck, you gold fruit behind the bars! / The barrier is falling and you are no longer tempting.
"When will the three of us meet again?" / "Around the seventh hour, on the Brückendamm." / "At the Mttelpfeiler." / "I will extinguish the flame."
Sneaked to Dionys the Tirann / Möros, the dagger in his robe, / The henchmen beat him in ties.
They rode along in the sunburn, / the rusty spear in their working hand, / and as they rode silently and quietly, / a bell cried in the valley, bright and shrill. / Then the captain said: "Dominatrix, / the last hour of your monastery is here!"
Three horsemen after a lost battle / How they ride so gently, so gently! / Blood gushes from deep wounds / The horse feels the warm tide.
In pouring rain in the bivouac / camped three tired recruits. / They put their heads on the sackcloth / And pulled their necks into their robes
There are three old maids sitting in the tower, / They sing and spin by night and storm. / The first daringly turns the spindle / That the ribbons flutter, the Kunkel blows.
I found three gypsies once / Lying on a pasture / When my wagon was in weary agony / Crept through sandy heather.
A poor girl sat by a river that shot with a rush; / from their blue eyes / many tears flowed into the grass.
"Almost, saddle me my Danish horse, / That I may get some rest! / It is getting too tight for me in the castle; / I want to and must go! "- / So the knight Karl called in haste, / Full of fear and suspicion, special rest.
»A loadis strawberry year, of course, gel! / On Benno's day, the frost wiped it off! «/ She spoke to me and smiled at it / with a withered mouth and water-blue eyes, / as harmless as a child, the skinny old woman.
A cute girl, a young blood / a farmer chose himself to be his wife, / but she was good for a soldier / and once asked her old man cleverly / he should go into the hay.
In King Sumblus halls joy game, removed / there were the warriors and noble sword much, / the king adorned in crown with gemstone; / with him the beautiful daughter in bridal jewelry is seen.
The women of Nidden stood on the beach / The brown hand over peeking eyes, / And the boats approached in wild haste, / Black pennants flew licking on the mast.
The lightning flashes wildly. A tower stands in a pale light / The thunder rolls. A rider fights with his horse / jumps off and knocks on the gate and makes a noise. His coat whizzes / in the wind. He holds the shy fox by the reins.
A Canadian who still did not know Europens / whitewashed politeness / and a heart as God gave it to him / still free from culture, felt in his bosom, / brought what he with the bow sinew / far in Quebek's over-traveled forests / on the Hunt prey for sale.
What comes down from the mountain late at midnight / with torches so splendidly? / Is it still possible to dance or celebrate? / The songs sound so lively to me.
His young lady was stolen from him / he looks for it in morning and evening / he looks for it in sunshine and moonlight / trotting on a shiny horse.
At Speyer in the last little house, / there lies an old man in agony, / his dress is bad, his bed is hard, / many tears run down his beard.
They had moved across the sea, / Their desire was for happiness and gold, / Three wild fellows, brown from the weather, / And they knew each other well and were friends.
Since you are still ruling the beautiful world, / By the joy of a light lead tape / Blessed families still led, / Beautiful beings from the land of fables!
Outside Schleswig at the gate / poor people live a lot. / Oh! the enemy of fierce horde / become the first target.
Two grenadiers went to France, / They were captured in Russia. / And when they came to the German quarters / They hung their heads.
I traveled through the vast Ungerland: / My heart found its joy / When village and bush and tree disappeared / On a quiet heather.
How easy it was in Cologne before / With Heinzelmännchen! / Because if you were lazy ... you lay down / on the bench and cared for yourself:
At night through the quiet lap / The rush of the Rhine / A little ship basically pulled, / A knight stood on it.
Often at the fountain when it dawns / you see them standing enchanted / draw water when it dawns. / Going up and down the bucket.
In the green, draped, fragrant room / The young mother lies on white pillows; / How burns your forehead! she lifts her eye weakly / To the farmer, where the nightingale feeds
“King Erich, put your fist on the withers! / Let the stallion dance in the grass. / Forget the old brotherly quarrel / We'll drink from a glass. "
Listen - the bells are crying dully, / And the pointer has finished its course, / Well, so be it! - Well, in God's name! / Grave companions head to the place of execution.
Old Jakob died tonight / So early in the morning they made six boards for him / And in there they stashed the treasure.
To the battle of chariots and chants, / Who happily unites the tribes of the Greeks on the Corinthus Strait, / Drew Ibycus, the friend of the gods.
Frau Magdalis weeps for her last piece of bread; / She couldn't eat it because of her grief. / Ah, widows often grieve greater need, / than happy people judge.
When spring came and the sea was blue / She never found rest -
Strange things are told about the Zobtenberge; When one counted one thousand and five hundred and seventy, On Sunday Quasimodo, Johannes Beer from Schweidnitz, a simple, pious man, strolled up.
This is the fairy tale of the knight Manuel / who at the behest of the strange magician / bent his head into a magic bowl.
Like here on monkeys, parrots, / on cockatoos and ravens / gentlemen and ladies in general / feast your lazy little effort:
Mr. Irrwing rides at night through the valley of the mill, / A ray of light follows him and a breath of cool wind. / Herr Irrwing thinks: that is the light of the moon; / It breathes hollow: “The moonbeam doesn't speak!” / The mill stands still.
Klingkling, bumbum and tschingdada, / Does the Persian Shah pull in triumph? / And roaring around the corner breaks / Like tubaton of the Last Judgment, / In front of the bell bearer.
Amid joyful melodies / Is the young Lenz awakened. / See how happy his eyes laugh at the imagination / New lust!
It loves somewhere in French-speaking Switzerland / A beautiful young knight / A girl who fled the world / Troz Klosterthor and grid;
It waits on soft purple velvet / the youngest slave of her master, / and beneath a dark brow / her eye flames like a mad star.
The servant stabbed the noble master, / The servant would like to be a knight himself.
Once the nine came crying / To the song god. / "Listen, Papa, called the little one, / How we are threatened!"
Blasting riders and fluttering blossoms / One ahead with parted curls - / Is it spring on a winged racer?
A vintner who was dying / called his children and said: / "There is treasure in our vineyard / just dig for it!" - "In which place?"
No tear in the gloomy eye / You sit at the loom and bar your teeth: / Germany, we weave your shroud, / We weave the threefold curse into it - / We weave, we weave!
“Good morning, young miller girl! / Today the air is blowing beautifully? "/" Let it blow from morning and evening, / To turn my empty mill! "
Was once a servant, the son of a widow, / He had done badly. / Then said his master: "You get your wages, / Tomorrow you have to hang."
Somewhere along the way she laughed, and her bright eyes shine! / And the young man leaves his lovely sweetheart / has set out for the witch.
The beetle pounds gently in the rotten shrine, / The moon stands over the pines. / Jesus Maria, where can she be! / My fear wants to direct me there.
Harun said to his children Assur, Assad, Scheherban: “Sons, will you complete what I began with bold courage? Ever since I ascended the throne of Baghdad, I have been surrounded by enemies! How do you fix rulership? How do you defend my life? "
Sitting leisurely in the workshop / Master Nikolas had a morning drink / The young housewife poured it for him / It was in the clear sunshine. - / The sun brings it out.
The moon went down - now it's time. - / The bridegroom gets off his horse, / He has been freeing for so long - / Then the castle opens,
Hope! you will still experience / that spring will return. / All the trees hope, / Those of the autumn wind devastate,
"Take the world!" Cried Zeus from his heights to the people. “Take it, let it be yours! / I give them to you as an inheritance and an eternal fief - / But share them in a brotherly way! "
Wash yourself, my sister, wash yourself! / We're going to Robin's wedding today: / He freed the proud Ruth.
Twelve angels stopped at the gate of heaven: / "You keepers down, you watchmen out."
They sit huddled on dark benches / And lift their extinguished looks / To the cross. The lights shimmer as if curtained, / And dim and how curtained the head of the wound.
It was a King Milesint, / I will tell you about him: / He murdered his brother's child / wanted to wear the crown himself.
They spewed death and ruin: / We did not suffer. / Two columns of foot soldiers, two batteries, / we rode them down.
There are so many roads going into the country, / roads like white ribbons in the sunshine, / roads over which the lightning of the high summer stand, / roads over which dust and rain blow in clouds.
I always carry a watch with me wherever I go; / How much it hit, / I can see exactly from her.
It was probably walking across the heather / Up to the old chapel / An old man in arms / And stepped into the dark choir.
The captain stands at the spar, / The telescope in his tanned hand, / The black-haired passenger / He has turned his back.
Father and child died / Rested deep in the grave / The mother had acquired / Since then another love.
It rises up out of the dark forest, crowned by towers / A steep, airy rock, that is the robbery lord Horst, / And as if from blue air the Aar at its catch, / So they shoot prey from there along the valley.
Where do you come from in the red dress / and color the grass on the green plan? / I come from a bloody men's argument / I'm red from the honor track.
The mother stood at the window / the son lay in bed. / "Don't you want to get up, Wilhelm / To watch the procession?"
You see busy with the linen / the old woman there with white hair / the most vigorous of the laundresses / in the seventy-sixth year.
Who will tell me where Weinsberg is? / Should be a brave town / should have been piously and wisely weighed / Lots of women and girls.
The first Hohenstaufen, King Konrad, had been lying / with army before Winsperg for many a long day; / The Guelph was defeated, the nest still resisted, / The undaunted townspeople, they still held on to it.
Out there by the heap, / A bird is singing free: / Young blood, don't go to the forest / The Fei lives in the forest.
On a mountain there is a post house that is like no other, / That no traveler has ever looked and never received a letter. / The giant halls yawn empty, not a word, not a call. / Instead of human spirit and human hand, iron violence works.
Around the circle the crowd / Bearded Magyars listens happily; / Sounds rush out of the circle / What are they gripping me? -
From the sea it swirls like smoke, / and from the cloud also / the dark slope descends. / The weather pillar storms around the reef / and already takes the hero's ship:
Old father, old father, / Let me out of the gray house! / Winter is long gone, / The sun is shining bright outside.
I walked across the moor alone, / Then I heard two ravens screeching and screaming; / One called to the other: / "Where are we going to lunch, me and you?"
Rubble and ashes. Isolated fire / still twitches up in the sky in sheaves. / Temples and streets and villas and barns, / Everything is trampled underfoot in filth and stew.

Diet - Dz

Outside near Schleswig in front of the gate / Poor people live a lot, / Oh the enemy of the wild horde / Become the first target.
  • Three times , Marie Luise Kaschnitz <r> Sometimes we get up / we get up to resurrection / in the middle of the day / with our living hair / with our breathing skin.

E.

A man with a ribbon, / The knight Hardiknut, / Left the city and came to the country / How often the townspeople do.
"Ahoy! Klas Nielsen and Peter Jehann! / Look to see if we're not too muscled yet! / Have you seen the Klabautermann? / Thank God, we are wedder to Hus! "
"The old woman has a hard face, / but clever, gentle eyes, / which are little more with the penny light / and are not good for crying."
A fisherman sat in the boat, / his heart was so heavy / his love had died / he will never believe that.
You put two dead to rest; / The captain fell in a glorious battle, / He was buried with honors, / And he, whom he recently hunted down, / The robber hangs on the gallows.
There lies a sheet of paper, written on by my hand / In days that have long faded away / So long that the fleeting writing has half faded. / But as I read it becomes an undertaking
The news goes and blows through the country / the armies on the edge of the Vltava carry, / they have struck a meeting, / on a wooden bridge, high above the river,
I want to go down alone, / Nobody should know my suffering / If the star I have seen / Torn from the sky / I want to go down lonely / Like a pilgrim in the desert.
Who rides so late through night and wind? / It is the father with his child. / He's got the boy in his arms, / He's holding him securely, he's keeping him warm.
Mr. Oluf rides late and far, / To bid on his bride and groom;
There is a golden field of sheaves / that goes to the edge of the world. / Grind, mill, grind!

F.

I was born in the year / nineteen twenty-two. / The breeze was blowing and it was snowing / in barren, dry flakes;
Dear children, do you know where / thimble at home? / Deep in the valley of Acherloo / Has he hearth and hermitage;
Mr. Peter and Bender were sitting with their wine, / Mr. Bender said: "I bet, / Your singing will conquer the whole world / But it will never conquer Ms. Mette."
Sing to whom singing has been given / In the German forest of poets! / This is joy, this is life / When it echoes from every branch.
The god who made iron grow wanted no servants, so he gave the saber, sword and spear to the man in his right hand.
Fridericus Rex, our King and Lord, / he called all his soldiers to the rifle,
Deep in the lap of the Kyffhauser / At the red light at the traffic lights / The old Emperor Friedrich sits / At the marble stone table.

G

A rider hunts through the field at night / then his horse is shy of him, / he drives and spurs with all his might / the horse does not want to pass,
When Christ lay in the grove of Gethsemane / on his face with closed eyes - / the air seemed to only suck in sighs, / and a source murmured its woes,
These are the banks of Goodwin sand, / they are not sea, they are not land ,
King Gorm rules over Denmark, / He rules the thirty years, / His mind is firm, his hand is strong, / Only his hair has turned white,
At Speyer im Saale, there is a ringing, / With torches and candles, dancing and jumping.

H

Now I'm getting very alone! / The princes are dead / How shines in the moonlight / The floor is bloody red!
Listen, Marthe, there is a knock outside; go, let the man in, / It will be a poor pilgrim who got lost! -
The bold hero Harald rode in front of his army; / They went through a wild forest in the moonlight.
The old throne was already sunk in the dust of the Sassanids, / The treasured ctesiphon is plundered by Muslims' hands:
Like the vulture, / Who rests on heavy morning clouds / With a gentle wing / Looks for prey, / Floating my song.
A boy saw a rose, / rose on the heath, / was so young and beautiful in the morning / he ran quickly to see it close,
The enemy is there. The battle begins. / Well run up to victory!
Herr Heinrich was sitting at the Vogelherd, / Quite happy and cheerful;
Do you see the age-gray / castles looking towards each other / shining gold in the sun,
Herr von Ribbeck auf Ribbeck im Havelland, / A pear tree stood in his garden,
The swallow flies / Spring wins / And gives us flowers for wreaths;
Indeed, you Lombards, it was a heavy step / that Friedrich Barbarossa rode through Milan's breach!
Who threw death on Hiroshima / went to the monastery, ring the bells.
At Mantua in gangs / The faithful Hofer was. / In Mantua to death / The host of the enemy leads him.

I.

I know a house, a house of joy, / It has made-up cheeks / A brightly colored wreath hangs out, / Death is trapped inside.

J

The night wind whistles through the hatches / And on the attic bed / Two poor souls are bedded; / You look so pale and thin.
Jan Bart goes over the Vlissinger Damm. / "Hür ', Katrin, wi trecken tosamm; / A huus, a boat, a goat and a cow, / Wat mienst, Katrin? sy my Fru. "
The dam rips, the field roars, / The floods wash away, the surface rushes. / "I'll carry you, mother, through the flood, / It doesn't reach up yet, I wade well."
"Who is John Maynard?" / "John Maynard was our helmsman / He held out until he won the bank."

K

"I would like to see (he spoke silently) / the places around here again / preferably towards Alt-Geltow, - / and you come with me, the children and you."
A young king from the north was defeated in Ukraine. / He hated spring and women's hair / and the harps and what they say.
There was joy in Troy's halls / before the high festival fell / hymns of jubilation can be heard / in the pages golden game.
In Poland, in the year thirty-nine / It was a bloody battle / It had turned many cities and villages / into a wilderness.
Mrs. Berta sat in the rock crevice / She laments her bitter fate. / Little Roland plays in the open air / Des complaint was not great.
The emperor speaks to Knight Hug: / "You have peeled off your sword for me, / There is enough iron with me, / Go, choose one that you like!"
"What are you sitting here, leaning against your sword, / my king, on the stone / and bowing your noble head to the ground / and looking so sinister?
King Harald Harfagar / sits down in the seabeds / with his beautiful water fairy; / The years come and go.
I am an old crocodile / And already saw the Osiris celebration; / By day I sunbathe in the Nile / By night on the beach I lay eggs.

L.

“Herr König, I am Steffen's child / Who once led the conqueror! / It is a fief that my servants / my ship alone will lead the king! "
When still, misunderstood and very little, / Our Lord walked on earth / And many disciples came to him / Who very seldom understood his word,
And when the war in the fourth spring / offered no prospect of peace / then the soldier drew his conclusions / and died a hero's death.
When he was seventy and was frail / it urged the teacher to rest / for the kindness was once again weak in the country / and the malice increased in strength again / and he girded his shoes.
Lenore started at dawn / up from heavy dreams: / “Are you unfaithful, Wilhelm, or dead? / How long do you want to hem "-
Recently in a dream I saw on the floods / pulling a boat without an oar, / river and sky stood in dull glow / as if day was approaching or fleeing.
The winter morning shines so clearly, / A wanderer comes from afar, / Frost shakes him, his hair stares, / The beautiful distance lied to him,
There is a bloody trail / Through our old house / My mother was only his lover / The beautiful Lucy Walters.
At Bacharach am Rheine / Lives a sorceress / She was so beautiful and fine / And tore many hearts away.
The new ruler is crowned in Reims. / The bells are ringing. A prisoner groans.

M.

"Which court does our queen bring with her?" / "She brings her four Marians with her, / Her four Marians from France, / They have to go with her."
How cheerful in the Tuileries castle / The mirror windows blink, / And yet there in broad daylight / Walking around the old ghosts.
On the shores of Palestine, up and down, day after day / “London?” Asked the Saracen woman where a ship was at anchor.
I saw seagulls circling around a rock / I in tireless tracks, / Remaining hovering on a stretched swing arm, / Describing a shimmering white path,

N

He nods with his big head / At the fire of a strange hearth: / In a dream he sees a ghost / Who loosens his purple clasp.
Cracks and howls and bursting night, / Dark and flames in frenzied chase - A scream through the surf!

O

Ol Büsen liggt int wille Haff, / de Floth, de keem un wöhl en Graff.
In the midst of his turban warriors, / The forehead full of thunderstorms, / Omar, the caliph, entered as a victor / Into the gate of the Ptolemies.

P

"I have to", said my Pegasus, "then renounce my freedom: / I'd rather pull the plow than pull the big wagon myself."
At the Red Sea with a troubled soul, / Israel lay with their foreheads in the dust,
The bailiff from Tondern, Henning Pogwisch, / hits the oak table with his fist: / Today I'm going over to Sylt myself / And get me interest and validity with my own hand.
Prince Eugenius, the noble knight, / Wanted to get the Emperor back / City and fortress Belgarad.

R.

I lost my way because it was so foggy. / The forest was damp and cold like a grave and fingers reached into my hair.
Dawn, do you shine for an early death? / Soon the trumpet will blow, / Then I'll have to give up my life / Me and many a comrade!
Dawn, do you shine for an early death? / Yesterday still on high horses / shot through the chest today / Tomorrow already in the cool grave
When King Rhampsenit / entered the golden hall / his daughter laughed, / all her maids laughed.
Away the lance, down from the horse! / By God and our wife! / I'll take the proud rebel castle / Before the gray of evening.
With the groom's comfort / Knight Kurt swings on his horse; / It should carry him to the wedding / On the noble lover's castle
Two men are standing in front of the dome, / Both are wearing red coats / And one is the king / And the executioner is the other.
"Knight, faithful sisterly love / dedicate this heart to yourselves; / do not ask for any other love, / because it causes me pain.
Mr. Darnley rides into the forest, Lord Ruthven by his side; / Mr. Darnley says: "What good does it do me that I ride in the spring?"
Roland, the Ries', at the / town hall of Bremen, / he stands a statue / steadfast and watches.
King Karl once sat at table / At Aachen with the princes, / Game prey and fish were set up / And nobody was left thirsty either.
Listen, listen, what are the waves singing on the beach? / There were three hunters in the Oberland / they wanted to fish and hunt / in their younger days.

S.

When they had known each other for eight years / (and one can say: they knew each other well) / their love suddenly disappeared. / Like a stick or hat to other people.
Salas y Gomez rises out of the waters / The calm sea, a bare rock, / Burned gluten by the vertically upright sun, / A stone frame without all grass and moss,
Sanct Stephan was a man of God / advised by God's Spirit / who gained strength through faith / for great miracles;
Basil the pious died; his spirit floats to the door of heaven. / The porter steps towards him, who harshly points him from the threshold
St. Martin with a lot of knights / probably riding across the field to hunt / and when they came to a hag, / a naked man was lying on the road.
The king sits anxiously on his throne, / He waves to call Jesse's son: / "Come on, boy, come with the sound of your harp!" / And he sits down on the steps.
In the castle of Düsseldorf on the Rhine / Mummenschanz is held; / The candles flicker, the music rustles, / The brightly colored figures dance.
Noisy, in the castle at Eger / Over the Hungarian wine, / The dignitaries / Duke Wallenstein sit:
What is the name of King Ringang's little daughter? / Rohtraut, Schön-Rohtraut. / What does she do all day long / Since she probably doesn't like spinning and sewing?
When Herr Ulrichs Wittib was kneeling in the church, a song sounded from the churchyard. / The organ upstairs stopped working / The priests and the boys all stopped,
When Emperor Redbeard came praised / to the holy land / there he had to go with the pious army / through a mountainous desert and empty.
The stars shone so golden / At the window I stood lonely / And heard from far away / A post horn in the quiet land.
Young Siegfried was a proud boy / went down from his father's castle.
The lights flicker up in the chapel. / The noble servant has lonely watch inside / According to the law before altares threshold
It was at a young age. I took you / back to the house next door, where you are a guest / through the wood. The fog trickled, / You pulled the hood of your traveling dress up / And looked familiarly with a veiled forehead.

T

Norman Duke Wilhelm once said: “Who sings in my court and in my hall? / Who sings from morning until late at night / So lovely that my heart laughs in my body? "
“Corporal, what's up? What's new? ”/“ Obediently report, Herr Kapitän, / The Leroi drum from the Leibcompagnie / - He should beat the rod at eight o'clock in the morning - / He's been in a fever since yesterday, / And doesn't take a drink or a bite more."
But now I want to start, / We want to sing about Tannhauser, / And what he has done miraculously, / With Frau Venussinnen.
I rested from hiking, / The moon was just rising, / There I was watching TV in the country / The old Tibet run,
In Wenningstedt near cards and grain / a farmer once killed his guest in sudden anger /. Thies Thießen was strong / and Hansen was a pester for any quark.
Hey, what sounds so unique? / Clarinet and violins / in the middle of the night / where the dead rest / in the dark chests,
We are no longer at the first glass, / That's why we like to think of this and that, / What is rustling and what is roaring.
Today I drove through Rungholt / the city went under six hundred years ago. / The waves are still beating wildly and indignantly / as they did when they destroyed the marshes.

U

The mother said: "Dear Else my, / Why are you grieving and troubled? / You get used to one another / Even without raving too much; / ... «

V

"Who put the candle in the roof?" / My son, your boy did it! / "His arm is too short, how high he stretches it!" / I lifted him up, he asked.
Lightning lurks behind the clouds, / in the oaks the storm digs; / thick forest, an emergency bell / already echoes muffled from many a tower.
Sailing ships and laughter / That stands like gold in the beard / Have passed away like a bad one / Breath that blows from the mouth / ...
Faithful Walther rode past / to our wife's chapel. / There was even kneeling in deep regret / A girl on the threshold.
Marie Farrar, born in April / Minor, unmarked, rachitic, orphan / So far allegedly innocent, wants / to have murdered a child in the way:
On the seventh day under light winds / the meadows became lighter. Since the sun was good / they thought to rest. Rolled brandy / off the wagons, set loose oxen.
Money is part of marriage, / ugliness is no shame, / love is almost absurd.

W.

To All Souls / In the dark night / When stand in front of us, / Which are always new to our heart,
Until she once said: “We lemons, we want to be big as melons! We also find the yellow abhorrent, we want to be red or bluish! "
It's already late, it's already cold, / What are you riding lonely through the forest? / The forest is big, you are alone, / You beautiful bride, I'll take you home!
At three o'clock on May 27th, the rivers of the earth rose from their beds and expanded
How beautiful the morning star shines! / I don't like any other song so much! / With tears fills each time / My eye, I play the chorale.
Nureddin kneels in front of Mahmud's throne: “O Padischah” I demand justice! / A warrior in your court has enjoyed nefarious injustice!
It was a gloomy winter morning / As if it didn't want to meet, / And a dull bell rang / In the fog.
Not in the cathedral or the royal crypt, / he rests in God's open air / outside on mountains and dumps, / even better deep, deep in the forest;

Z

"Go inside, you little ones, warm yourselves by the fire, / In the evening it is uncomfortable in the Zeitelmoose!"
Lisa was a witch / everyone knew that. / She was a kitten yesterday, / an owl she flew today.
A little ship swam on the Danube, / Inside sat the bride and groom, / He over there and she over there.

See also

literature

Individual references / comments

  1. ↑ See: Wulf Segebrecht (Ed.), Deutsche Balladen. Poems that tell dramatic stories , Munich 2012, ISBN 978-3-446-23995-1 , p. 13. Cf. Gerd Hergen Lübben, Fund zu Bacherach in: Ders. Author, VERSIONS III │ »VOM ESSENER MARCUS«, »FOUND TO BACHERACH • NATURAL DIGGING«, »YDBY OPAK AHOI • YEAR BY YEAR« AND OTHER TEXTS (ebook verlag dreikorb 2014, ISBN 978-3-95577-835-4 )

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