Darthulas Grabesgesang, Op. 42, No. 3 (Johannes Brahms): Difference between revisions

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Revision as of 08:30, 29 December 2011

Music files

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  • CPDL #23590:  Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif
Editor: Robert Urmann (submitted 2011-05-21).   Score information: Executive, 8 pages, 270 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: includes optional piano accompaniment; see Drei Gesänge, Op. 42 for a complete edition
Editor: Martin Stolle (submitted 2000-06-06).   Score information: A4, 7 pages, 140 kB   Copyright: CPDL
Edition notes: MusiXTex file zipped.
Error.gif Possible error(s) identified. Error summary: Minor differences with Brahms Sämtliche Werke See the discussion page for full description.

General Information

Title: Darthulas Grabesgesang, Op. 42, No.3
Work: Drei Gesänge, Op. 42
Composer: Johannes Brahms
Lyricists: Johann Gottfried Herder, after Ossian

Number of voices: 6vv   Voicing: SAATBB

Genre: SecularPartsong

Language: German
Instruments: a cappella, with optional piano accompaniment
Published: 1868 (?); Bremen: Aug. Fr. Cranz

Description: composed between October 1859 and June 1861, Detmold and Hamburg; first proven performance: December 14th 1869, Lipsia

External websites:

Original text and translations

German.png German text

Mädchen von Kola, du schläfst!
Um dich schweigen die blauen Ströme Selmas!
Sie trauren um dich!
Sie trauren um dich, den letzten Zweig von Thruthils Stamm!

Wann erstehst du wieder in deiner Schöne?
Schönste der Schönen in Erin!
Du schläfst im Grabe langen Schlaf,
dein Morgenrot ist ferne!

O nimmer kommt dir die Sonne,
weckend an deine Ruhestätte;
Wach auf, Darthula! Frühling ist draußen!

Die Lüfte säuseln, auf grünen Hügeln,
holdselig Mädchen, wehen die Blumen!
Im Hain wallt sprießendes Laub!

Weiche, Sonne, dem Mädchen von Kola, sie schläft!
Nie ersteht sie wieder in ihrer Schöne!
Nie wieder in ihrer Schöne, nie
siehst du sie lieblich wandeln mehr, sie schläft!

English.png English translation

MacPherson's 'translation' of Ossian, the 'original' on which Herder's version is based:

"Daughter of Colla! thou art low!"
said Cairbar's hundred bards.
"Silence is at the blue streams of Seláma.
Truthil's race have failed.

When wilt thou rise in thy beauty,
first of Erin's maids?
Thy sleep is long in the tomb.
The morning distant far.

The sun shall not come
to thy bed and say, Awake,
Dar-thula! awake,
thou first of women!
the wind of spring is abroad.

The flowers shake their heads
on the green hills.
The woods wave
their growing leaves.

Retire, O sun!
the daughter of Colla is asleep.
She will not come forth in her beauty.
She will not move in the steps of her loveliness."