By water – river banks

Gouriev after Ingres, river, 1821
Gouriev after Ingres, river, 1821

Ist mir's doch, als sei mein Leben 
An den schönen Strom gebunden. 
Hab ich Frohes nicht an seinem Ufer, 
Und Betrübtes hier empfunden!

Ja du gleichest meiner Seele; 
Manchmahl grün und glatt gestaltet; 
Und zu Zeiten, herrschen Stürme,
Schäumend, unruhvoll, gefaltet.  

Fließest zu dem fernen Meere, 
Darfst allda nicht heimisch werden;
Mich drängt's auch in mildre Lande,
Finde nicht das Glück auf Erden.

But it appears to me as if my life
Is bound up with this beautiful river.
Is it not the case that on its banks I have known something of joy
And I have experienced distress here?

Yes, you are similar to my soul;
Sometimes green and with a smooth surface,
And at other times, when storms dominate,
Foaming, disturbed, furrowed.

You are flowing towards the distant sea,
Unable to feel that you belong anywhere.
I too am being driven to a more gentle land - 
I cannot find happiness on earth.

Mayrhofer, Am Strome	D 539

The metaphor is simply unavoidable. We come to the river bank and encounter the stream flowing past. It has a distinct identity yet it changes all the time. When we emerge into consciousness as children we too find ourselves mid-flow. We have clearly come from somewhere, but we have no immediate knowledge of where. We are on our way and cannot stop, but not all of us are aware of our destination. We may be perplexed and concerned by our lack of understanding or delighted by the sense of freedom this gives us. Frohes und Betrübtes, something of joy and distress, as Mayrhofer phrases it.

It is hardly surprising that river banks are a common location for laments. Tears and rivers flow together, as people cry over lost love, lost hope or lost youth.

Lass rinnen der Tränen
Vergeblichen Lauf,
Es wecke die Klage 
Den Toten nicht auf,
Das süßeste Glück für die trauernde Brust,
Nach der schönen Liebe verschwundener Lust,
Sind der Liebe Schmerzen und Klagen.

Let the tears flow 
Their pointless course;
The lament will not 
Wake the dead up.
The sweetest blessing for the grieving breast
After the disappearance of the joy of beautiful love
Are the pains and laments of love.

Schiller, Des Mädchens Klage	D 6, D 191, D 389

Ich hab ein Bächlein funden 
   Vom Städtchen ziemlich weit, 
Da bin ich manche Stunden 
   In stiller Einsamkeit. 
Ich tät mir gleich erkiesen 
   Ein Plätzchen kühles Moos,
Da sitz ich, und da fließen 
   Mir Tränen in den Schoß.  

I have found a little brook
Quite a distance away from my small town,
I spend quite a few hours there
In quiet solitude.
I soon set about choosing
A little spot on the cool moss;
I sit there, and that is where
Tears fall down into my lap.

Stolberg-Stolberg, Daphne am Bach	D 411

Verfließet, vielgeliebte Lieder,
Zum Meere der Vergessenheit!
Kein Knabe sing entzückt euch wieder,
Kein Mädchen in der Blütenzeit.

Ihr sanget nur von meiner Lieben,
Nun spricht sie meiner Treue Hohn;
Ihr wart ins Wasser eingeschrieben,
So fließt denn auch mit ihm davon.

Flow on, you greatly loved songs,
Towards the sea of oblivion!
No enraptured lad is going to sing you again,
No girl at the time when flowers bloom!

You only sang about my love;
Now she speaks mockingly of my faithfulness.
You were inscribed into the water;
So you should also flow away with it.

Goethe, Am Flusse / An meine Lieder	D 160, D 766

An der Quelle saß der Knabe,	
Blumen wand er sich zum Kranz,
Und er sah sie fortgerissen,	
Treiben in der Wellen Tanz.	
Und so fliehen meine Tage	
Wie die Quelle rastlos hin!		
Und so bleichet meine Jugend,	
Wie die Kränze schnell verblühn!

A lad sat by the spring
Binding flowers into a wreath,
And he watched them being pulled away
Swirling in the dance of the waves.
"And that is how my days fly off
Without a rest, like this spring!
That is how my youth fades,
Just as quickly as blossoms on wreaths.

Schiller, Der Jüngling am Bache	D 30, D 192, D 638

One of the reasons why the river bank offers such solace in laments like this is that it is often associated with happy memories, which only reinforce the current sense of loss. This is made very clear in Hölty’s Seufzer (Sigh):

Die Nachtigall
Singt überall
Auf grünen Reisen
Die besten Weisen,
Daß ringsum Wald
Und Ufer schallt.

Manch junges Paar
Geht dort, wo klar
Das Bächlein rauschet,
Und steht, und lauschet
Mit frohem Sinn
Der Sängerin.

Ich höre bang
Im düstern Gang
Der Nachtigallen
Gesänge schallen,
Denn ach, allein
Irr ich im Hain.

The nightingale
Sings everywhere
On green branches
The best tunes
Which resound around the wood
And resound around the river bank.

Many a young couple 
Goes there, where clearly
The little brook murmurs,
And they stand there and listen
In a delighted mood - 
They listen to the singer.

I am uneasy when I hear 
On the gloomy path
The nightingale's
Songs resound;
For oh! I am on my own
As I roam around and go astray in the grove.

Hölty, 	Seufzer	D 198

In the same way that river banks can be the site of both joy and pain, they can also represent either connection or separation. Rellstab stands by a river and sees it as an ambassador taking messages downstream (Liebesbotschaft, D 957/1) but in Schober’s Vergissmeinnicht (D 792) and Schiller’s Die Bürgschaft (D 246) an unfordable river becomes a barrier.

More often, though, poets and readers standing or sitting on a river bank are looking in the mirror. The water reflects their own moods and inner dispositions. This is the case throughout Die Schöne Müllerin and particularly in Tränenregen (D 795/10):

Wir saßen so traulich beisammen
Im kühlen Erlendach,
Wir schauten so traulich zusammen
Hinab in den rieselnden Bach.

Der Mond war auch gekommen,
Die Sternlein hinterdrein,
Und schauten so traulich zusammen
In den silbernen Spiegel hinein.

Ich sah nach keinem Monde,
Nach keinem Sternenschein,
Ich schaute nach ihrem Bilde,
Nach ihrem Auge allein.

Und sahe sie nicken und blicken
Herauf aus dem seligen Bach,
Die Blümlein am Ufer, die blauen,
Sie nickten und blickten ihr nach.

Und in den Bach versunken
Der ganze Himmel schien
Und wollte mich mit hinunter
In seine Tiefe ziehn.

Und über den Wolken und Sternen
Da rieselte munter der Bach
Und rief mit Singen und Klingen:
Geselle, Geselle, mir nach.

Da gingen die Augen mir über,
Da ward es im Spiegel so kraus,
Sie sprach: es kommt ein Regen,
Ade, ich geh nach Haus.

We were sitting so intimately next to each other
Under the cool canopy of the alder trees,
We were looking so intimately together
Down into the rippling stream.

The moon had also joined us,
With the little stars coming along behind,
And we were looking so intimately together
Down into the silver mirror.

I was not looking at any moon,
Or at any starlight,
I was looking at her image,
Just at her eye.

And I saw her bobbing and peeping
Up out of the blessed stream,
The little flowers on the river bank, the blue ones,
They bobbed and peered back at her.

And sunk in the stream
The whole sky appeared,
And it wanted me to follow it down
Pulling me into its depths.

And above the clouds and the stars
The stream rippled cheerfully on,
And it called with singing and ringing:
Mate, mate, follow me!

Then my eyes glazed over,
Then the mirror became hazy;
She said: It's going to rain,
Bye, I'm off home.

Müller, Tränenregen	D 795/10

☙

Descendant of: 

WATER  


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