More or less, the musings of a graduate of a Scottish university, born in New York, formerly resident in South Africa, and now living in London.
@cusackandrew: Visited Erskine Childers' old regiment in London tonight. His name on the Boer War roll of honour was pointed out with ironic pride.

Im wunderschönen Monat Mai

Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Knospen sprangen,
Da ist in meinem Herzen
Die Liebe aufgegangen.

Im wunderschönen Monat Mai,
Als alle Vögel sangen,
Da hab ich ihr gestanden
Mein Sehnen und Verlangen.

This poem by Heinrich Heine (I’m sure I need not tell you) is one of my favorites, and was famously set to music by Schumann. I had intended to post it to herald the beginning of May, but distractions got the better of me, so I am afraid it must herald the month’s departure.

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5 Comments so far
  1. 1 June 2007
    7:43 am

    One of my favourite Lieder as well! I do hope, though, that your heart isn’t broken as decidedly as that of the poor chap in Dicterliebe!

  2. 1 June 2007
    7:44 am

    Errr, Dichterliebe. Oops.

  3. 1 June 2007
    9:47 pm

    Translation, perhaps? I always wanted to learn German, but alas, all I can make out from the poem is that it’s about the month of May!

  4. 16 October 2008
    11:15 pm

    Heine is truly untranslatable. Perhaps even more than even Goethe because Heine uses words which at first glance appear simple. But try and translate them, together with their equivocal meanings, sounds, and nuances and you will soon see that this is impossible. And even for those of us who are lucky enough to read his works in the original, the inner meanings are still equivocal.

    Peter Appelbaum
  5. 2 December 2010
    4:04 pm

    A blind man sang this while drinking Dutch beer in a New York bar. Transcendent.

    Des JOhnson
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