Svanesange

Midt i august skrev jeg et indlæg om Strauss’ fire sidste sange — og jeg skrev blandt andet, at “Hvis man gerne vil have et forholdsvis hurtigt og relativt smertefrit indtryk af, hvordan de mest berømte, kvindelige sopraner lyder, og hvor forskellige de er, og/eller af, hvor meget klassiske indspilninger kan variere [...] Så foreslår jeg, at man – du – går på biblioteket og låner en stak forskellige indspilninger af Richard Strauss: “Vier letzte Lieder” (”Four Last Songs”).” 

Efterfølgende har jeg selv investeret i yderligere tre indspilninger af sangene. Jeg havde – og tak til bror Lars – denne CD med Elisabeth Schwarzkopf — men har også indkøbt denne. Foruden denne med Jessye Norman og denne med Melanie Diener. Som jeg forleden nævnte her i bloggen.

Og jeg forsøger nu – for jeg kender mig bedre end de fleste – at holde mit samler-gén under kontrol. Der findes – jo – også en CD med Cheryl Studer.  Og en med Felicity Lott. Og en med Lisa Della Casa. Og så videre. Der findes mange. Og jeg føler mig afgjort fristet.

Her er teksten – på engelsk – til de fire sange:

*** 

Frühling

In dusky valleys
I dreamed long
of your trees and blue skies,
of your scent and birdsong.

Now you appear
in all your finery,
shining brilliantly
like a miracle before me.

You recognize me once more,
you tenderly embrace me;
all my limbs tremble at
your glorious presence!

***

September

The garden is in mourning;
the cool rain seeps into the flowers.
Summertime shudders,
quietly awaiting her end.

Golden leaf after leaf falls
down from the tall acacia tree.
Summer smiles, astonished and feeble,
in her dying dream of a garden.

For a while beside the roses
she remains, yearning for repose.
Slowly she closes
her ever more weary eyes.

***

Beim Schlafengehen

Now I am wearied of the day;
all my ardent desires shall
gladly succumb to the starry night
like a sleepy child.

Hands, stop all your work;
brow, forget all your thoughts;
all my being now
yearns to sink into sleep.

And the unchained spirit
wishes to fly up freely
into night’s magic sphere
to live deeply and a thousandfold.

***

Im Abenrot

We have willingly and joyfully
walked hand in hand;
now let us rest from our wanderings
through the silent land.

The valleys close in on themselves;
already the sky is darker;
a solitary pair of larks still soar,
dream-rapt in the dusk.

Come close and let them fly about;
soon it will be time to sleep;
let us not lose our way
in this solitude.

O vast, tranquil peace!
so deep at sunset.
How weary we are of wandering -
Is this perhaps death?