Rivers (Strom)

Thomas Cole, The Connecticut River near Northampton, 1836
Thomas Cole, The Connecticut River near Northampton, 1836

What is the difference between a stream (Strom) and a river (Fluss)? Is there any difference between streaming (strömen) and flowing (fließen)?

The standard answer is that a Strom is the stretch of a river that empties into the sea. Tributaries, it is said, can only ever be a Fluss, never a Strom. There is an echo of this notion in Winterreise:

Durch des Bergstroms trockne Rinnen
Wind ich ruhig mich hinab -
Jeder Strom wird's Meer gewinnen,
Jedes Leiden auch sein Grab.

Through the dry channels of the mountain stream
I wind my way down in peace - 
Every stream will reach the sea,
Every sorrow will also find its grave.

Müller, Irrlicht		D 911/9

Although it is highly likely that this particular mountain stream will be the tributary of a larger river, the poet is focused on the ultimate destination.

A Strom will therefore constitute a larger body of water than a Fluss and the energy of the stream represents a considerable force. On 1st April 1815 Ernst Schulze wrote a poem in his diary that he called Lebensmut (Courage for life) in which he determined to navigate his way through the waters engulfing him:

Dass noch einmal Wunsch und Wagen,
Zorn und Liebe, Wohl und Weh
Ihre Wellen um mich schlagen
Auf des Lebens wilder See,
Und ich kühn im tapfern Streite
Mit dem Strom, der mich entrafft,
Selber meinen Nachen leite,
Freudig in geprüfter Kraft.

Let them come again - desire and daring,
Rage and love, ecstasy and misery -
Let their waves beat around me
On the savage sea of life;
And I shall be bold in the courageous struggle
With the stream that is engulfing me,
I shall guide my boat myself
Joyfully using my well-tested strength.

Schulze, Lebensmut	D 883

In this context the word ‘stream’ might appear to be too weak as a translation of the word ‘Strom’, since the poet’s boat seems to be on the open sea (‘the savage sea of life’) rather than a river. He is battling the current.

‘Current’ is in fact one of the standard English translations of the word ‘Strom’ (we have a similar usage when we refer to the Gulf Stream, an ocean current). When the diver in Schiller’s ballad Der Taucher (D 77, D 111) reports on his experience between Scylla and Charybdis he refers to being sucked into a vortex, a double current (Doppelstrom):

Es riss mich hinunter blitzesschnell,
Da stürzt' mir aus felsigtem Schacht
Entgegen ein reissender Quell,
Mich packte des Doppelstroms wütende Macht,
Und wie einen Kreisel mit schwindelndem Drehen
Trieb's mich um, ich konnte nicht widerstehn.

I was carried down as fast as lightning -
I then plunged down a rocky shaft
And came up against a gushing spring.
The double stream's raging power grabbed me,
And, like a spinning top with its dizzying rotation,
I was driven around and I could not resist it.

Schiller, Der Taucher		D 77, D 111

In the ‘Fragment from Aeschylus’ quoted in Lafontaine’s novel ‘Eugenie’ a drowning criminal is said to be carried away in the ‘stream of time’ and here again ‘current’ may be a better translation than ‘stream’. Time is not ‘flying’ or ‘flowing’ here, but inexorably surging.

So wird der Mann, der sonder Zwang 
Gerecht ist, nicht unglücklich sein; 
Versinken ganz in Elend kann er nimmer.
Indes der frevelnde Verbrecher 
Im Strome der Zeit gewaltsam untergeht, 
Wenn am zerschmetterten Maste 
Das Wetter die Segel ergreift.  

Thus the man who, without compulsion, 
Is righteous will not be unhappy;
He can never sink totally into suffering.
Meanwhile the sinful criminal
Will violently drown in the stream of time
When the mast shatters
And the weather seizes the sail.

Aeschylus, German translation by Lafontaine, Fragment aus dem Aeschylus  D450

Two of the poems by Ludwig Rellstab that Schubert set to music towards the end of his life illustrate some of these connotations of the word ‘Strom’. Auf dem Strom (Schubert’s D 943) presents the river (in its estuary stage) as a metaphor for life and death. The speaker embarks on a small boat moored on the river bank but is soon carried off. He looks back at the shore with longing and regret, but the current carries him out into the ocean.

Sieh, wie flieht der Strand vorüber,
Und wie drängt es mich hinüber,
Zieht mit unnennbaren Banden,
An der Hütte dort zu landen,
In der Laube dort zu weilen.
Doch des Stromes Wellen eilen
Weiter ohne Rast und Ruh,
Führen mich dem Weltmeer zu.

Look at how the shore flies past
And how I am pulled across,
I am drawn by nameless attachments,
I want to land there by that cottage,
I want to stay there in the foliage;
Yet the river's waves hurry, taking me
Further, without pause or rest,
Leading me on to the ocean.

Rellstab, Auf dem Strom	D 943

In contrast, in Aufenthalt (D 957/5) the same poet writes about a different human response to the same surging inevitability. Instead of going with the flow and allowing the stream to carry us off, there are times when some people decide that they need to stand firm. Although they are buffetted by the winds and surrounded by the streaming waters, they might be able to find a fixed, unmoveable foothold. Yet for Rellstab, it is not exactly a matter of standing firm. It is more that the ever changing atmosphere and the flowing waters draw our attention to the unchanging pain and horror of the human condition.

Rauschender Strom,
Brausender Wald,
Starrender Fels
Mein Aufenthalt.

Wie sich die Welle
An Welle reiht,
Fließen die Tränen
Mir ewig erneut.

Hoch in den Kronen
Wogend sich's regt,
So unaufhörlich
Mein Herze schlägt.

Und wie des Felsen
Uraltes Erz
Ewig derselbe
Bleibet mein Schmerz.

Rauschender Strom,
Brausender Wald,
Starrender Fels
Mein Aufenthalt.

Roaring river,
Rustling forest,
Fixed rock
Where I am staying.

Just as waves
Follow waves,
My tears flow
Endlessly renewed.

High in the tree tops
There is a swaying movement,
In the same way incessantly
My heart is beating.

And like the rock's
Primeval ore,
Forever the same
My pain endures.

Roaring river,
Rustling forest,
Fixed rock
Where I am staying.

Rellstab, Aufenthalt		D 957/5

In many poems a mighty river is encountered as an obstacle to progress. The central character in Die Bürgschaft (D 246) is hindered as he urgently attempts to release his friend from hostage:

Und trostlos irrt er an Ufers Rand,
Wie weit er auch spähet und blicket,
Und die Stimme, die rufende, schickt,
Da stößt kein Nachen vom sichern Strand,
Der ihn setze an das gewünschte Land,
Kein Schiffer lenket die Fähre,
Und der wilde Strom wird zum Meere.

Da sinkt er ans Ufer und weint und fleht,
Die Hände zum Zeus erhoben:
"O hemme des Stromes Toben!
Es eilen die Stunden, im Mittag steht
Die Sonne, und wenn sie niedergeht,
Und ich kann die Stadt nicht erreichen,
So muss der Freund mir erbleichen."

And wretchedly he paces around on the edge of the river bank:
However far he peers and looks 
And however far he throws his voice, calling out,
No boat sets off from the safety of the shore
To set him down in the place he longs to get to,
There is no sailor to steer the ferry,
And the wild stream has become the sea.

He sinks down there on the bank and cries and begs,
His hands raised to Zeus:
"Oh, calm the river's rage!
The hours are rushing on, standing at midday
Is the sun, and when it goes back down
And I cannot reach the town,
My friend will have to expire in my place."

Schiller, Die Bürgschaft	D 246

However, Schiller believed that obstacles should be overcome. In Sehnsucht (D 52, D 636) the poetic persona is longing to escape from a constricting environment into a better, more harmonious world, yet is blocked by a raging stream.

Harmonien hör ich klingen,
     Töne süßer Himmelsruh,
Und die leichten Winde bringen
     Mir der Düfte Balsam zu.
Goldne Früchte seh ich glühen,
     Winkend zwischen dunkelm Laub,
Und die Blumen, die dort blühen,
     Werden keines Winters Raub.

Ach wie schön muss sich's ergehen
     Dort im ew'gen Sonnenschein,
Und die Luft auf jenen Höhen,
     O wie labend muss sie sein.
Doch mir wehrt des Stromes Toben,
     Der ergrimmt dazwischen braust,
Seine Wellen sind gehoben,
     Dass die Seele mir ergraust.


I can hear harmonies resounding,
The notes of sweet heavenly rest,
And the light winds are bringing
Me the fragrance of balsam.
I can see golden fruit glowing,
Waving within the dark foliage,
And the flowers that bloom there
Will never be ravaged by winter.

Oh how lovely it must be to stroll
There in the eternal sunshine;
And the air on those heights,
How refreshing it must be!
But I am hindered by the raging stream
That angrily roars and blocks my way.
Its waves are raised so high
That my soul is horrified.

The way out is with a determined leap of resolution. The appropriate response to the angry stream is to ride it, not to let it block our path.

Einen Nachen seh ich schwanken,
     Aber ach! der Fährmann fehlt.
Frisch hinein und ohne Wanken,
     Seine Segel sind beseelt.
Du musst glauben, du musst wagen,
     Denn die Götter leihn kein Pfand,
Nur ein Wunder kann dich tragen
     In das schöne Wunderland.

I can see a boat rocking.
But oh! There is no ferry man.
Get in quick, don’t delay.
Its sails are hoisted.
You have to believe, you have to dare,
For the gods do not offer any security.
Only a miracle can convey you
To that beautiful land of wonders.

Schiller, Sehnsucht	D 52, D 636

Yet Schiller was also aware that at times such determination might not be enough and that not all voyagers reach their intended destination. Sometimes we are caught up in a current which is too powerful for us and we are carried off in the wrong direction. In Der Pilgrim (D 794) the speaker learns the hard way that resolution and determination might not be enough to get us to the promised land.

Berge lagen mir im Wege,
  Ströme hemmten meinen Fuß,
Über Schlünde baut' ich Stege,
  Brücken durch den wilden Fluss.

Und zu eines Stroms Gestaden
  Kam ich, der nach Morgen floss,
Froh vertrauend seinem Faden
  Warf ich mich in seinen Schoß.

Hin zu einem großen Meere
  Trieb mich seiner Wellen Spiel,
Vor mir liegt's in weiter Leere,
  Näher bin ich nicht dem Ziel.

Ach kein Weg will dahin führen,
  Ach der Himmel über mir
Will die Erde nicht berühren,
  Und das Dort ist niemals Hier.

Mountains lay in my way,
Streams hemmed in my feet,
I built footbridges across crevices,
I built bridges over the savage river.

And I came to the bank of a stream
That was flowing to the East, I came there
And happily trusting its current
I threw myself into its lap.

I was taken off to a great ocean,
The play of its waves carried me along,
Lying in front of me is a broad expanse,
I am no nearer to my goal.

Oh, no path is going to lead there,
Oh the sky above me
Is not going to touch the earth,
And 'there' is never 'here'.

Schiller, Der Pilgrim	D 794

The image of a powerful stream carrying us off onto the open sea is often an irrisitible metaphor for the process of dying, of course. In Matthisson’s Die Sterbende (the dying woman), D 186, the stream of life carries us off to the palm grove of heaven:

Horch! im heil'gen Hain der Palmen
Wo der Strom des Lebens fließt,
Tönt es in der Engel Psalmen:
Schwesterseele, sei gegrüßt!
Die empor mit Adlerschnelle
Zu des Lichtes Urquell stieg;
Tod! wo ist dein Stachel? Hölle!
Stolze Hölle! wo dein Sieg?

Listen! In the sacred grove of palms
Where the stream of life flows
Angels' psalms are resounding:
Sister-soul, greetings!
Rising up at the speed of an eagle she
Climbed to the original source of light;
Death! Where is your sting? Hell!
Proud hell! Where your victory?

Matthisson, Die Sterbende	D 186

In Klopstock’s Furcht der Geliebten (D 285) the poet addresses his beloved (Cidli), assuring her that God is accompanying him as he is carried on and across the great river:

Cidli, du weinest, und ich schlummre sicher,
Wo im Sande der Weg verzogen fortschleicht,
Auch wenn stille Nacht ihn umschattend decket,
Schlummr' ich ihn sicher.

Wo er sich endet, wo ein Strom das Meer wird,
Gleit ich über den Strom, der sanfter aufschwillt,
Denn, der mich begleitet, der Gott gebot's ihm:
Weine nicht, Cidli.

Cidli, you are crying, and I am sound asleep,
Where the path goes off and disappears in the sand;
Even when it is hidden in covering shade in the quiet night
I shall sleep safely on that path.

Where it comes to an end, where a stream becomes the sea,
I shall glide over that stream, swelling gently;
For the one who is accompanying me is God, who directs it.
Do not cry, Cidli.

Klopstock, Furcht der Geliebten - An Cidli	D 285

‘Wo ein Strom das Meer wird’ is the crucial phrase. Where is it exactly that an estuary stops being a river and becomes the sea? Does the surging current that is our own life have an ultimate destination or do we simply merge into the totality (or the nothingness) that surrounds us? Is the relentless flow of the river that is our life a sign that we are on the way to a calmer, more settled dimension or is it a symbol of the inherent instability of all existence?

Der Strom

Mein Leben wälzt sich murrend fort; 
Es steigt und fällt in krausen Wogen, 
Hier bäumt es sich, jagt nieder dort, 
In wilden Zügen, hohen Bogen. 
 
Das stille Tal, das grüne Feld 
Durchrauscht es nun mit leisem Beben, 
Sich Ruh ersehnend, ruhige Welt, 
Ergötzt es sich am ruhigen Leben.  

Doch nimmer findend, was es sucht, 
Und immer sehnend, tost es weiter, 
Unmutig rollt's auf steter Flucht, 
Wird nimmer froh, wird nimmer heiter.

The river

My life is rolling on, grumbling away;
It climbs and falls in twisting waves,
It rears up here, it gets pushed down there,
In savage strokes, high arches.

Through the quiet valley, the green meadow,
It is now burbling onward with a gentle agitation,
Longing for rest, a peaceful world,
It takes delight in a peaceful life.

Yet never finding what it is looking for
And forever longing, it roars on,
In a bad humour it rolls on in perpetual flight,
It is never going to be satisfied, it is never going to be happy.

Unknown author, Der Strom	D 565


Am Strome

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.

By the river

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

☙

Descendant of: 

Water  


Texts with this theme: