Alban Berg, Sieben frühe Lieder
Texti: Paul Hohenberg
Sommertage
Nun ziehen Tage über die Welt,
gesandt aus blauer Ewigkeit,
im Sommerwind verweht die Zeit.
Nun windet nächtens der Herr
Sternenkränze mit seliger Hand
über Wander - und Wunderland.
O Herz, was kann in diesen Tagen
dein hellstes Wanderlied denn sagen
von deiner tiefen, tiefen Lust:
Im Wiesensang verstummt die Brust,
nun schweigt das Wort, wo Bild um Bild
zu dir zieht und dich ganz erfüllt.
Sumardagar
Dagar líða um himingeim -
sendir úr blárri eilífðinni.
Tíminn hverfur með sumarvindinum.
Um nætur fléttar Drottinn, helgri hendi,
stjörnusveig yfir gönguleið og undralönd.
Ó, hjarta mitt, hvernig hljóðar nú
þitt bjarta farandljóð
um þína dýpstu, dýpstu þrá:
Engjasöngur slær á brjóstsins tóna
Þagna orð en mynd og mynd þig hrífur.
Þýð. Elísabet Erlingsdóttir og Atli Ásbergs
Summer Days
Now days of summer ride through the
world, heralds of blue eternity; on
gentler winds the hours flee.
By night the Lord gently weaves
starry posies with his blessed hand,
hangs them over his magic land.
My heart, in these days summers´
bringing what can you say with all
your singing of what you deeply,
deeply feel? For beauty all your words
doth steal, and comes in silence with
the view of eventide and filleth you.
Transl.