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Der Schrei

Language: German (Deutsch)

Die Kompagnie liegt jenseits der Raab. 
Der von Langenau reitet hin, allein. 
Ebene. Abend. Der Beschlag vom am Sattel glänzt durch den Staub.
Und dann steigt der Mond. Er sieht es an seinen Händen.
Er träumt. 
Aber da schreit es ihn an. 
Schreit, schreit, 
zerreißt ihm den Traum. 
Das ist keine Eule. Barmherzigkeit: 
der einzige Baum 
schreit ihn an: 
Und er schaut: es bäumt sich. Es bäumt sich ein Leib 
den Baum entlang, und ein junges Weib, 
blutig und bloß, 
fällt ihn an: Mach mich los! 

Und er springt hinab in das schwarze Grün 
und durchhaut die heißen Stricke; 
und er sieht ihre Blicke glühn 
und ihre Zähne beißen. 

Lacht sie? 

Ihn graust. 
Und er sitzt schon zu Roß 
und jagt in die Nacht. 
Blutige Schnüre fest in der Faust.

Translation(s): ENG FRE

Submitted by John Versmoren


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
    * ENG English (Knut W. Barde) , title 1: "The scream", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
    * FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "Le cri", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Notes about what "text verified" means can be found here.

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The scream

Language: English

 The company is on the other side of the Raab river.
 Von Langenau is riding aimlessly, alone.
 The plain.  Evening. The metal fittings of the saddle gleam through the dust.
 And then the moon rises.  He can tell by looking at his hands.
 He is dreaming.
 But then a scream assaults him.
 Screams upon screams 
 disrupt his dream.
 It is no owl.  Heaven have  mercy:
 The lone tree 
 screams at him:
 And he sees:  It is writhing.  A body is writhing
 Against the tree, and a young female, 
 bloodied and naked, 
 snarls at him: Set me free!
 And he jumps down into the black green,
 And cuts through the hot ropes;
 And he sees her burning glances,
 And the baring of her teeth.
 Is she laughing?
 He shudders with dread
 And is already up on his steed
 And races into the night,
 The bloody ropes grasped firmly in his fist..

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    * Translation from German (Deutsch) to English copyright © by Knut W. Barde, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. Please contact the copyright-holder(s) when requesting permission to reprint and be sure to give proper credit, which MUST include the copyright symbol ©

Based on

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.