My dearest, this week and the next one I'm on holiday. As always, I'm sending you a postcard from where I am; as always, with a little help of technology. A handful of composers and poets were born or lived in this city, some of them regular visitors to Liederabend; I can choose among many options to illustrate the card!
Autumn begins in two days (if you're reading this, the day is posted). After such a long, hot summer, I think that even if you aren't in favour, you will welcome it with relief. That's why I chose a beautiful song by Fanny Hensel (née Mendelssohn), Im Herbste. She composed it in January 1846, just over a year before her death; it would be her husband who published it posthumously, around 1850, within Op. 10. The poem is by Emanuel Geibel and our performers are Donna Brown and Françoise Tillard. I hope you like it.
Greetings from...
bebt noch eine einz'ge Ranke,
also bebt in meinem Sinne,
schmerzlich nur noch ein Gedanke.
Kaum vermag ich ihn zu fassen,
aber dennoch von mir lassen,
will er, ach, zu keiner Frist.
Und so denk ich ihn und trage
alle Nächte, alle Tage,
mit mir fort die dumpfe Klage,
daß du mir verloren bist.
there quivers a single last vine,
just as in my mind there quivers
painfully a single thought.
I can hardly catch it,
but it will not leave me alone,
alas, not even for one second.
And so I contemplate it, and endure
all the nights and days,
and with me always is the hollow lament,
that you are lost to me.
(transation by Emily Ezust)
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