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    Der Neugierige

    Ich frage keine Blume,

    Ich frage keinen Stern,

    Sie knnen [mir]1 nicht sagen,

    Was ich erfhr so gern.

    Ich bin ja auch kein Grtner,

    Die Sterne stehn zu hoch;

    Mein Bchlein will ich fragen,

    Ob mich mein Herz belog.

    O Bchlein meiner Liebe,

    Wie bist du heut so stumm?

    Will ja nur eines wissen,

    Ein Wrtchen um und um.

    Ja heit das eine Wrtchen,

    Das andre heiet Nein,

    Die beiden Wrtchen

    Schlieen die ganze Welt mir ein.

    O Bchlein meiner Liebe,

    Was bist du wunderlich!

    Will's ja nicht weitersagen,

    Sag, Bchlein, liebt sie mich?

    I ask no flower,

    I ask no star;

    None of them can tell me,

    What I so eagerly want to know.

    I am surely not a gardener,

    The stars stand too high;

    My brooklet will I ask,

    Whether my heart has lied to me.

    O brooklet of my love,

    Why are you so quiet today?

    I want to know just one thing -

    One little word again and again.

    The one little word is "Yes";

    The other is "No",

    Both these little words

    Make up the entire world to me.

    O brooklet of my love,

    Why are you so strange?

    I'll surely not repeat it;

    Tell me, o brooklet, does she love

    me?

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    Ungeduld

    Ich schnitt es gern in alle Rinden

    ein,

    Ich grb es gern in jeden

    Kieselstein,

    Ich mcht es s'n auf jedes frische

    Beet

    Mit Kressensamen, der es schnell

    verrt,

    Auf [jeden weien Zettel]1 mcht

    ich's schreiben:

    Dein ist mein Herz und [soll]2 es

    ewig bleiben.

    Ich mcht mir ziehen einen jungen

    Star,

    Bis da er sprch die Worte rein und

    klar,Bis er sie sprch mit meines Mundes

    Klang,

    Mit meines Herzens vollem, [heien]3

    Drang;

    Dann sng er hell durch ihre

    Fensterscheiben:

    Dein ist mein Herz und soll es ewig

    bleiben.

    Den Morgenwinden mcht ich's hauchen

    ein,

    Ich mcht es suseln durch den regen

    Hain;

    Oh, leuchtet' es aus jedem

    Blumenstern!

    Trg es der Duft zu ihr von nah und

    fern!

    Ihr Wogen, knnt ihr nichts als

    Rder treiben?

    Dein ist mein Herz und soll es ewig

    bleiben.

    Ich meint, es mt in meinen Augen

    stehn,

    Auf meinen Wangen mt man's brennen

    sehn,

    Zu lesen wr's auf meinem stummenMund,

    Ein jeder Atemzug gb's laut ihr

    kund,

    Und sie merkt nichts von all dem

    bangen Treiben:

    Dein ist mein Herz und soll es ewig

    bleiben.

    Impatience

    I would carve it fondly in the bark

    of trees,

    I would chisel it eagerly into each

    pebble,

    I would like to sow it upon each

    fresh flower-bed

    With water-cress seeds, which it

    would quickly disclose;

    Upon each white piece of paper would

    I write:

    Yours is my heart and so shall it

    remain forever.

    I would like to raise a young

    starling,

    Until he speaks to me in words pure

    and clear,Until he speaks to me with my

    mouth's sound,

    With my heart's full, warm urge;

    Then he would sing brightly through

    her windowpanes:

    Yours is my heart and so shall it

    remain forever!

    I would like to breath it into the

    morning breezes,

    I would like to whisper it through

    the active grove;

    Oh, if only it would shine from each

    flower-star!

    Would it only carry the scent to her

    from near and far!

    You waves, could you nothing but

    wheels drive?

    Yours is my heart, and so shall it

    remain forever.

    I thought, it must be visible in my

    eyes,

    On my cheeks it must be seen that it

    burns;

    It must be readable on my mute lips,

    Every breath would make it loudlyknown to her,

    And yet she notices nothing of all

    my yearning feelings.

    Yours is my heart, and so shall it

    remain forever.

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    Der Mller und der Bach

    Der Mller:

    Wo ein treues Herze

    In Liebe vergeht,

    Da welken die Lilien

    Auf jedem Beet;

    Da mu in die Wolken

    Der Vollmond gehn,

    Damit seine Trnen

    Die Menschen nicht sehn;

    Da halten die Englein

    Die Augen sich zu

    Und schluchzen und singen

    Die Seele [zu]1 Ruh'.

    Der Bach:Und wenn sich die Liebe

    Dem Schmerz entringt,

    Ein Sternlein, ein neues,

    Am Himmel erblinkt;

    Da springen drei Rosen,

    [Halb rot, halb wei]2,

    Die welken nicht wieder,

    Aus Dornenreis.

    Und die Engelein schneiden

    Die Flgel sich ab

    Und gehn alle Morgen

    Zur Erde [hinab]3.

    Der Mller:

    Ach Bchlein, liebes Bchlein,

    Du meinst es so gut:

    Ach Bchlein, aber weit du,

    Wie Liebe tut?

    Ach unten, da unten

    Die khle Ruh!

    Ach Bchlein, liebes Bchlein,

    So singe nur zu.

    The Miller and the Brook

    The Miller:

    Where a true heart

    Wastes away in love,

    There wilt the lilies

    In every bed;

    Then into the clouds must

    The full moon go,

    So that her tears

    Men do not see;

    Then angels

    shut their eyes

    And sob and sing

    to rest the soul.

    The Brook:And when Love

    conquers pain,

    a little star, a new one,

    shines in Heaven;

    three roses,

    half red and half white,

    which never wilt,

    spring up on thorny stalks.

    And the angels cut

    their wings right off

    and go every morning

    down to Earth.

    The Miller:

    Ah, brooklet, dear brook,

    You mean it so well,

    Ah, brooklet, but do you know,

    What love does?

    Ah, under, yes under,

    is cool rest!

    Ah, brooklet, dear brook,

    please just sing on.

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    Mein!

    Bchlein, la dein Rauschen sein!

    Rder, stellt euer Brausen ein!

    All ihr muntern Waldvgelein,

    Gro und klein,

    Endet eure Melodein!

    Durch den Hain

    Aus und ein

    Schalle heut ein Reim allein:

    Die geliebte Mllerin ist mein!

    Mein!

    Frhling, sind das alle deine

    Blmelein?

    Sonne, hast du keinen hellern

    Schein?

    Ach, so mu ich ganz allein

    Mit dem seligen Worte mein

    Unverstanden in der weiten Schpfungsein!

    Mine!

    Little brook, let your gushing be!

    Wheels, cease your roaring!

    All you merry woodbirds,

    Large and small,

    End your melodies!

    Through the grove,

    Out and in,

    Let only one song be heard today:

    The beloved millermaid is mine!

    Mine!

    Spring, are all of those your

    flowers?

    Sun, have you no brighter shine?

    Ah, so I must be all alone

    With my blissful word,

    incomprehensible to all of

    Creation!

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    The Lied(literally "song" in German) as a genre reached its highpoint in the works of Schubert (left), whotransformed it from a simple vocal line with piano accompaniment to a sophisticated and flexible form aspotent and expressive as any other. Words and music are on an equal footing, but that does not meanthat the piano part takes a back seat - in fact, such close attention to the meaning of the words allows forfar more expressive possibilities, and having singer and pianist as equal protagonists means there isgreater dramatic potential, so you often find that layers of meaning, subtexts and imagery can be

    revealed through the composer's use of the instrument.

    Beethoven had given the lead in writing song cycles, with his An die entfernte Geliebte ("To the DistantBeloved") a work which excited Schubert greatly, and sparked a couple of early attempts at composing asong cycle of his own, a few years before embarking on the first of his two masterpieces in the genre, DieSchne Mullerin.

    Schubert's melodic imagination is unmatched in its fluency and originality, and this no better exemplifiedthan in Die Schne Mullerin, a collection of 20 Lieder which has all the simplicity and tunefulness of a setof folk songs allied to the drama and structural cohesion you would expect of the finest opera, and all thisachieved with just a voice and piano.

    Background. Song had been a crucial part of Schubert's compositional make up in his formative years,

    and the composer returned to the genre of the lied throughout his career, yet by 1823 it was forming aless significant part of his output. The small but devoted group of young intellectuals who formed his circleof friends were aware of his talents in the intimate drawing-room surroundings of the Schubertiad (thename generally given to the evenings of poetry, music and socialising that revolved around thecomposer) and he was getting an increasing number of songs published, but success in domestic music-making was by definition on a small scale, and the ambitious Schubert was desperate to be a majorfigure.

    In Vienna at this time, with Beethoven still the dominant presence in concert music, the opera housepresented his best chance of wider public acclaim. So in one sense all the songs, symphonies andquartets of his early maturity (many of which are masterpieces) can be seen as an apprenticeship for hisattempt at the big league: over 400 of his 600-plus songs were written by the time he was 21. Although henever gave up writing songs altogether, there is a definite falling-off in his Lieder output which coincides

    with the abortive opera projects of the period. For example, in the 17 months from May 1821 toSeptember 1822, he wrote just a dozen songs - a remarkable change from the time when one monthalone would see that many.

    It was only with the first onset of illness at the end of 1822 and the collapse of his operatic career thefollowing year that he returned to song-writing with anything like his former intensity. But in adversity, hisprevious career proved a productive fall-back, and before embarking on his next career change, as acomposer of large scale symphonic and church music, he found inspiration in a cycle of poems by hisnear contemporary Wilhelm Mller.

    The words. Mller (left) was in a social circle very similar to Schubert's, and it was out of an elaborateparty game of a kind that Schubert himself may have enjoyed that the poems of this cycle evolved. Theywere designed as a gentle parody of popular rustic romances of the time, but those telling of a sensitive

    young miller and his unrequited love for his boss's daughter (the Mllerin of the title) caught thecomposer's imagination. He started work on them in the summer of 1823, possibly during a stay inhospital under treatment for syphilis, which he knew was incurable.

    The tragic aspect of the miller's story must have struck a chord with a composer whose own ambitionsand optimism had been dashed by illness and professional misfortune. He removed Mller's prologue andepilogue as well as four other poems which did not fit with his conception, and set about creating a folktale of great power, returning it to its origin by stripping away Mller's sophisticated sheen of irony and

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    detachment. Schubert had a tremendous nose for taking what he required from a text, and had no qualmsabout altering it to suit his own ends.

    The music. Schubert realised that although he had abandoned the original prologue and epilogue, hecould retain that aspect of Mller's structure quite easily by providing a strong opening number. Theyoung miller is introduced wandering merrily through the countryside, singing of the joys of being a miller

    out on the road looking for work, with no hint of the trouble that he will encounter. His song is heardagainst a background (listen to the piano part) which suggests not only a brisk, confident optimism in hisstride, but also the rhythm of a mill-wheel turning.

    The second song introduces a stream (rippling piano figurations) whose path he follows as it leads downinto a valley - he entrusts his fate to it and lets it lead him where it will. The stream is one of the mainprotagonists in the drama, and at key moments the miller confides in it and asks its advice. This maysound strange, but it is really a symbol of both the boy's conscience and his trust in nature and destiny. Atvarious points in the narrative, he speaks to it as a confidant (addressing it as mein Bchlein orliebesBchlein - "my brook", "dear brook" - or even rauschender Freund- literally, "babbling friend", whichsounds better in German, but I think you get the idea) although he is really speaking to himself, as thebrook never answers.

    The old carefree disposition vanishes once he encounters the miller's daughter at his new workplace, andin successive songs he becomes frantically eager, anxious, impatient, bids an almost comically clumsy"good morning" to the girl, then turns self-pitying, triumphant, and self-pitying again. All of this action isseen through the boy's eyes, as he searches for assurance that the miller's daughter will notice him andreturn his love, although he never actually approaches her about it. He merely clings to and magnifies themost innocuous meetings, as in the tenth song, Trnenregen ("raining tears"), where he interprets acasual conversation as something rather more. The song entitled Pause is so much more than its modestheading would suggest: the intermittent strumming of the piano takes the listener further into theprotagonist's psyche than at any time before as he dwells on his feelings, at a loss as to how to expressthem.

    The illusion is shattered abruptly by the appearance of a huntsman. The young miller tells us all we needto know about this character, which is that, as far as he is concerned, he is not welcome, but to the

    miller's daughter, he is. The boy is angry and descends into depression before accepting his fate. Heconsoles himself that the girl will know that he was true to her when she sees the flowers that she gavehim on his grave, as described in one of the greatest of Schubert's songs, Trockne Blumen ("WitheredFlowers"). This song gives him a moment of triumph after all the trauma that he has dragged himselfthrough. His suicide, as he is welcomed into the depths of his beloved stream, is followed by Schubert'sown epilogue, a gentle lullaby that is repeated without variation, usually for six minutes or more inperformance, but is beautifully sustained.

    One of the great things about this work is the way Schubert personalises the story to create a drama ofimmense power and breadth that nevertheless has the apparent simplicity of a folk tale. As with allgenuine folk tales, there is far more truth here than in the sophisticated but watered down renditions thatusually achieve wider circulation when cast as high art. Schubert has reversed this process, taking a city-dweller's mock-romance and fashioning from it something that has all the authenticity of feeling and

    elemental power of a real folk tale, yet within the bounds of some of the most personal, sophisticated andoriginal of all art music.

    Recommended recordings. There was a time when complete recordings ofDie Schne Mullerin werequite rare, but thanks in no small part to the example set by the German baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, any male singer (and a few female ones) with aspirations as a Lieder artist now feels obliged toset their version on disc.

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    The cycle was originally written for tenor, but Schubert was not against performances by other voicetypes, and there exist a few transpositions that he made for a baritone friend. Many recordings notcovered inthe following surveyare recommendable, particularly those by tenors Peter Pears (Decca) andAksel Schiotz (Danacord) or baritones Hakan Hagagard (RCA) and Dietrich Henschel (EMI Debut), butthe ones listed should offer the best general recommendations, especially if this work is new to you.

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