The autumn night
(Poet's title: Die Herbstnacht)
Set by Schubert:
D 404
Schubert did not set the stanzas in italics[March 1816]
Mit leisen Harfentönen
Sei Wehmut mir gegrüßt!
O Nymphe, die der Tränen
Geweihten Quell verschließt!
Mich weht an deiner Schwelle
Ein linder Schauer an,
Und deines Zwielichts Helle
Glimmt auf des Schicksals Bahn.
Du, so die Freude weinen,
Die Schwermut lächeln heißt,
Kannst Wonn und Schmerz vereinen,
Dass Harm in Lust verfleußt;
Du hellst bewölkte Lüfte
Mit Abendsonnenschein,
Hängst Lampen in die Grüfte
Und krönst den Leichenstein.
Du nahst, wenn schon die Klage
Den Busen sanfter dehnt,
Der Gram an Sarkophage
Die müden Schläfen lehnt;
Wenn die Geduld gelassen
Sich an die Hoffnung schmiegt,
Der Zähren Tau im nassen,
Schmerzlosen Blick versiegt.
Du, die auf Blumenleichen
Des Tiefsinns Wimper senkt,
Bei blätterlosen Sträuchen
Der Blütenzeit gedenkt;
In Florens bunte Kronen
Ein dunkles Veilchen webt,
Und still, mit Alcyonen,
Um Schiffbruchstrümmer schwebt.
O du, die sich so gerne
Zurück zur Kindheit träumt,
Selbst ihr Gewölk von Ferne
Mit Sonnengold besäumt:
Was uns Erinn’rung schildert
Mit stillem Glanz verbrämt,
Der Trennung Qualen mildert,
Und die Verzweiflung zähmt.
Der Leidenschaften Horden,
Der Sorgen Rabenzug,
Entfliehn vor den Akkorden,
Die deine Harfe schlug;
Du zauberst Alpensöhnen,
Verbannt auf Flanderns Moor,
Mit Sennenreigen-Tönen
Der Heimat Bilder vor.
In deinen Schattenhallen
Weihst du die Sänger ein;
Lehrst junge Nachtigallen
Die Trauer-Melodein;
Du neigst, wo Gräber grünen,
Dein Ohr zu Hölty’s Ton;
Pflückst Moos von Burgruinen
Mit meinem Matthisson.
Rühr unter Tränenweiden
Noch oft mein Saitenspiel;
Verschmil auch Gram und Leiden
In süßes Nachgefühl;
Gib Stärkung dem Erweichten!
Heb aus dem Trauerflor,
Wenn Gottes Sterne leuchten,
Den Andachtsblick empor!
With gentle notes on the harp
Let me greet you, melancholy!
Oh nymph, you who control tears
And lock up their consecrated source!
On your threshold I feel
A gentle shudder go through me,
And the brightness of your twilight
Glows over the course of destiny.
You, just as you cause people to weep at joy
And see melancholy as something to smile about,
Can unite pleasure and pain,
So that grief can turn into delight;
You brighten cloudy skies
With evening sunshine,
You hang lamps in vaults
And you crown the gravestone.
You approach whenever laments have already
Extended the breast more gently,
Whenever sorrow by the sarcophagus
Presses on tired temples;
When patience allows itself
To snuggle up to hope,
The wet dew of tears
Dries up and vision becomes painless.
You, who look down at the corpses of flowers
As deep thoughts lower the eyelids,
When you see bushes without leaves
You think of the time when they are in blossom;
Into Flora’s bright crown
A dark violet is woven,
And quietly, with Alcyone,
It hovers around shipwrecks.
Oh you, who so keenly
Dream about the former days of childhood,
You even take those distant clouds
And give them a golden lining from the sun:
Whatever memory presents to us
Is glossed over with a quiet radiance,
The agonies of separation are softened
And despair is brought under control.
The hordes of sorrow,
The crow-black train of care,
Fly off at the chords
Plucked from your harp;
You enchant the sons of the Alps
Banished to the moorlands of Flanders
With the notes of cowherds’ songs
That offer images from home.
In your shaded halls
You initiate singers;
You teach young nightingales
The melodies of mourning;
Where graves turn green you bend
Your ear to Hölty’s note;
You pluck moss from castle ruins
With my Matthisson.
Under weeping willows continue to touch
My stringed instrument frequently;
Blend both grief and sorrow
Into a sweet recollection;
Give strength to those that are touched!
Look up from the flowers of mourning
When God’s stars are alight,
Lift your gaze in prayer!
All translations into English that appear on this website, unless otherwise stated, are by Malcolm Wren. You are free to use them on condition that you acknowledge Malcolm Wren as the translator and schubertsong.uk as the source. Unless otherwise stated, the comments and essays that appear after the texts and translations are by Malcolm Wren and are © Copyright.
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Themes and images in this text:
Autumn Black Bushes and undergrowth Castles and towers Chest / breast Dreams Evening and the setting sun Flowers Gold Graves and burials Green Harps and Aeolian harps Heathland and moors Hills and mountains Home (Heimat) Hope Laments, elegies and mourning Lamps Magic and enchantment Melancholy Melody Near and far Night and the moon Nightingales, Philomel Joy Pain Pictures and paintings Prayers and praying Ravens Ships Stars Tears and crying Violets Weaving Weeping willows Wreaths and garlands
This is melancholy as consolation rather than as depression. It is personified as a nymph who is able to stop our tears at source, who can turn grief into delight. It is both light and darkness at the same time, but the poet chooses to accentuate the positive: its twilight is ‘bright’ and it ‘brightens’ cloudy skies. It is the light that shines in burial vaults and illuminates grave-stones.
Melancholy is therefore not a condition that drags us down. It is when we are at our lowest that it comes to our aid. As we contemplate bare bushes and dead flowers (‘the corpses of flowers’!) it is melancholy that drives us to recall springtime, which means that we cannnot avoid thinking more positively about the future. Flora, goddess of spring, wears a wreath which includes a dark flower, a violet, which represents a reminder of the transcience of the bright flowers around it but also consolation when things are even darker (e.g. the violet can be seen blooming on the ruins of ships that have sunk or run aground and is associated here with the Halcyon days, named after Alcyone, who, according to Ovid, needed a number of days each winter when she could lay her eggs and so her father, Aeolus, god of the winds, ensured a storm-free, and consequently a shipwreck-free, few days each year).
Most definitions of ‘melancholy’ comment on the element of regret or sadness about a lost or imagined past. In stanza 5 the poet comments on how beneficial it is that we are encouraged to see our past as brighter than it in fact was. This means that the rawness is taken off past trauma and melancholy is a sort of therapy, it is not the illness itself. The same thing applies to space as to time. Swiss mountain dwellers who have been banished to the Low Countries find that their homesickness is actually treated rather than being accentuated under the influence of melancholy. What gives them access to melancholy is, of course, music. The whole poem is presented as being sung with a harp accompaniment (as if David was singing to treat Jonathan).
Melancholy underlies other types of music: birdsong and poetry. The nightingale has learnt its lament directly from melancholy itself. People in mourning find solace in the melancholy that pervades the poetry of Hölty and Matthisson (a personal friend of the poet). The ‘envoi’ in stanza 8 reminds the reader / hearer that this text itself is an example of a song or poem inspired directly by melancholy (not simply addressed to it). The essential point is driven home yet again: the effect of the mixture of grief and sorrow brought about by melancholy is that we look up. We have not forgotten what it was that made us feel down, we are not in denial. On the contrary, melancholy has strengthened us so that we can continue with life and all it throws at us: darkness, loss, storms, shipwrecks and death itself.
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There is confusion about exactly when Salis-Seewis wrote the text. In the 1815 edition of his works the poem appears in the ‘Dritter Zeitraum, 1794 – 1798’ (the third time period), though an earlier version (edited by Matthisson) had appeared in Zürich in 1793. The author had returned to his homeland in Switzerland after serving as an officer supporting the revolutionary French government. In 1793 he reluctantly decided to leave France, partly because he feared that he would have to fight Swiss troops (who were then fighting in support of Spain against France in the Pyrenees). Graham Johnson says that the reference to Swiss soldiers ‘banished’ to Flanders is connected with troops under the command of Theodor von Reding, but this is unlikely since Reding (and his Swiss batallion) seem to have been fighting in the Basque Country at the time.
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Original Spelling Die Herbstnacht Mit leisen Harfentönen Sey, Wehmuth, mir gegrüßt! O Nymphe, die der Thränen Geweihten Quell verschließt! Mich weht an deiner Schwelle Ein linder Schauer an, Und deines Zwielichts Helle Glimmt auf des Schicksals Bahn. Du, so die Freude weinen, Die Schwermuth lächeln heißt, Kannst Wonn' und Schmerz vereinen, Daß Harm in Lust verfleußt; Du hellst bewölkte Lüfte Mit Abendsonnenschein, Hängst Lampen in die Grüfte Und krönst den Leichenstein. Du nahst, wenn schon die Klage Den Busen sanfter dehnt, Der Gram an Sarkophage Die müden Schläfe lehnt; Wenn die Geduld gelassen Sich an die Hoffnung schmiegt, Der Zähren Thau im nassen, Schmerzlosen Blick versiegt. Du, die auf Blumenleichen Des Tiefsinns Wimper senkt, Bey blätterlosen Sträuchen Der Blüthenzeit gedenkt; In Florens bunte Kronen Ein dunkles Veilchen webt, Und still, mit Alcyonen, Um Schiffbruchstrümmer schwebt. O du, die sich so gerne Zurück zur Kindheit träumt, Selbst ihr Gewölk von Ferne Mit Sonnengold besäumt: Was uns Erinn'rung schildert Mit stillem Glanz verbrämt, Der Trennung Qualen mildert, Und die Verzweiflung zähmt. Der Leidenschaften Horden, Der Sorgen Rabenzug, Entfliehn vor den Accorden, Die deine Harfe schlug; Du zauberst Alpensöhnen, Verbannt auf Flanderns Moor, Mit Sennenreigen-Tönen Der Heimath Bilder vor. In deinen Schattenhallen Weihst du die Sänger ein; Lehrst junge Nachtigallen Die Trauer-Melodey'n; Du neigst, wo Gräber grünen, Dein Ohr zu Hölty's Ton; Pflückst Moos von Burgruinen Mit meinem Matthisson. Rühr' unter Thränenweiden Noch oft mein Saitenspiel; Verschmilz' auch Gram und Leiden In süßes Nachgefühl; Gib Stärkung dem Erweichten! Heb' aus dem Trauerflor, Wenn Gottes Sterne leuchten, Den Andachtsblick empor!
Confirmed by Peter Rastl with Gedichte von J. G. von Salis. Gesammelt durch seinen Freund Friedrich Matthisson. Zürich, bey Orell, Gessner, Füssli und Compagnie. 1793, pages 14-17; and with Schubert’s source, Gedichte von J. G. von Salis. Neueste Auflage. Wien 1815. Bey B. Ph. Bauer, pages 120-122.
To see an early edition of the text, go to page 120 [134 von 192] here: http://digital.onb.ac.at/OnbViewer/viewer.faces?doc=ABO_%2BZ160622604