And on the coffin was written a verse in letters of red lead. The characters had an ugly appearance: Completely ensnared by the fatherland rewarded by the fatherland with a coffin The home for every warrior! Thus they went through Potsdam for the man of the Chemin des Dames Then the order police came and beat them to a pulp. Argonnerwald, um Mitternacht, Ein Pionier stand auf der Wacht.
Und mit dem Spaten in der Hand, Er vorne in der Sappe stand. Mit Sehnsucht denkt er an sein Lieb', Ob er es wohl noch einmal wiedersieht. Und ob er auch so stark mag sein, In uns're Stellung kommt er doch nocht 'rein. Der Sturm bricht los! Argonnerwald, Argonnerwald, Ein stiller Friedhof wirst du bald.
Halten fest zusammen, Wir weichen nicht, wir kennen uns're Pflicht! Wenn nur der Sieg uns winkt! Granaten und Schrapnells krepieren zischend, Bald hier, bald ein Haus, ein Stadel brennt. Doch welch ein Kampf? Nichts anders kennen wir! Da weicht der Gegner: AmazonGlobal Ship Orders Internationally. Amazon Inspire Digital Educational Resources. Amazon Rapids Fun stories for kids on the go. Amazon Restaurants Food delivery from local restaurants.
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German Verse from the Trenches
Amazon Renewed Refurbished products with a warranty. Amazon Second Chance Pass it on, trade it in, give it a second life. The Last Invocation 8. A Clear Midnight 9. Sing On There in the Swamp Darest Thou Now O Soul Charles Villiers Stanford Text: My life closed twice before its close; It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me, So huge, so hopeless to conceive As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell. Bear in mind That death is a drum Beating forever Till the last worms come To answer its call, Till the last stars fall, Until the last atom Is no atom at all, Until time is lost And there is no air And space itself Is nothing nowhere, Death is a drum, A signal drum, Calling life To come!
Tod, die Trommel, Rasselt trom-trom, Ruft allem Leben: Skimming lightly, wheeling still, The swallows fly low Over the fields in cloudy days, The forest-field of Shiloh — Over the field where April rain Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain Through the pause of night That followed the Sunday fight Around the church of Shiloh — The church, so lone, the log-built one, That echoed to many a parting groan And natural prayer Of dying foemen mingled there — Foemen at morn, but friends at eve — Fame or country least their care: What like a bullet can undeceive!
But now they lie low, While over them the swallows skim, And all is hushed at Shiloh.
- Magical Gardens: Cultivating Soil & Spirit.
- Lothar Nietsch (Author of Die Grüne Muse).
- Selected Poems.
Wie kann eine Kugel die Sicht umbewerten! Doch nun liegen sie so, Nur die Schwalben noch flitzen, Und alles ist still in Shiloh. My feet took a walk In heavenly grass All day while the sky shone clear as glass, My feet took a walk In heavenly grass. All night while the lonesome stars rolled past, Then my feet come down to walk on earth And my mother cried When she gave me birth.
Now my feet walk far And my feet walk fast, But they still got an itch for heavenly grass. But they still got an itch for heavenly grass. Doch es bleibt ihnen die Sehnsucht nach himmlischem Gras.
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My chair rock-rocks by the door all day But nobody ever stops my way, Nobody ever stops my way. The cabin was cozy And hollyhocks grew Bright by the door Till his whisper crept through. The sun on the sill Was yellow and warm Till she lifted the latch For a man or a storm. Now the cabin falls To the winter wind And the walls cave in Where they kissed and sinned. And the long white rain Sweeps clean the room Like a white-haired witch With a long straw broom! Sugar in the Cane If you touched me, God save you, These summer days are hot and blue. If you did, God save your soul!
These winter nights are blue and cold! As Adam Early in the Morning Ethiopia Saluting the Colors Look Down, Fair Moon One Thought Ever at the Fore One Thought Ever at the Fore. To What You Said Weeping angel with pinions trailing An head bowed low in your hands. Mourning angel with heartstrings waiting For one who in deaths hall stands, Mourning angel silence your wailing And raise your head from your hands, Weeping angel with pinions trailing, The white dove, promise, stands!
Trauernder Engel, in Schmerzen wartend auf einen, der vor dem Tode steht. I love my love and well she knows, I love the grass whereon she goes; If she on earth no more I see, My life will quickly leave me. Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea, Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie; Over the streamlet vapors are borne, Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
O, nun heb du an, dort in deinem Moor 5.
Sing on there in the swamp! O singer bashful and tender! Through the windows — through doors — burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet — no happiness must he have now with his bride, Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain, So fierce you whirr and pound you drums — so shrill you bugles blow. Over the traffic of cities — over the rumble of wheels in the streets; Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses?
Would the talkers be talking? Would the singer attempt to sing? Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge? Then rattle quicker, heavier drums — you bugles wilder blow. Die Redner, wollen sie reden? Will der Anwalt sich him Gericht erheben, seinen Fall dem Richter darzulegen?
Once riding in old Baltimore, Heart-filled, head-filled with glee; I saw a Baltimorean Keep looking straight at me. Da streckt er seine Zunge aus: I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother.
“I Hear America Singing” (Salzburg ): Song Texts and Translations | Hampsong Foundation
This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the yellow sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales; Merchantmen poise upon horizons, Dip, and vanish with fairy sails. Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury!
Rowing in Eden — Ah, the Sea! Might I but moor — Tonight — In Thee! Rudernd in Eden — Ach, das Meer!
Related Und Josef schlägt die Trommel (German Edition)
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