Die Forelle
In einem Bächlein helle,
Da schoß in froher Eil'
Die launische Forelle
Vorüber wie ein Pfeil.
Ich stand an dem Gestade
Und sah in süßer Ruh
Des muntern Fischleins Bade
Im klaren Bächlein zu.
Da schoß in froher Eil'
Die launische Forelle
Vorüber wie ein Pfeil.
Ich stand an dem Gestade
Und sah in süßer Ruh
Des muntern Fischleins Bade
Im klaren Bächlein zu.
In a clear little brook
the capricious trout
shot past in joyful haste
like an arrow.
I stood on the bank
and in sweet calm watched
the lively little fish bathing
in the clear brook.
the capricious trout
shot past in joyful haste
like an arrow.
I stood on the bank
and in sweet calm watched
the lively little fish bathing
in the clear brook.
Ein Fischer mit der Rute
Wohl an dem Ufer stand,
Und sah's mit kaltem Blute,
Wie sich das Fischlein wand.
So lang dem Wasser Helle,
So dacht' ich, nicht gebricht,
So fängt er die Forelle
Mit seiner Angel nicht.
Wohl an dem Ufer stand,
Und sah's mit kaltem Blute,
Wie sich das Fischlein wand.
So lang dem Wasser Helle,
So dacht' ich, nicht gebricht,
So fängt er die Forelle
Mit seiner Angel nicht.
A fisherman with his rod
stood on the bank
and watched, cold-blooded,
how the little fish twisted and turned.
As long as the water
does not lack clearness, I thought,
he will never catch the trout
with his rod.
stood on the bank
and watched, cold-blooded,
how the little fish twisted and turned.
As long as the water
does not lack clearness, I thought,
he will never catch the trout
with his rod.
Doch endlich ward dem Diebe
Die Zeit zu lang. Er macht
Das Bächlein tückisch trübe,
Und eh' ich es gedacht,
So zuckte seine Rute,
Das Fischlein zappelt dran,
Und ich mit regem Blute
Sah die Betrog'ne an.
Die Zeit zu lang. Er macht
Das Bächlein tückisch trübe,
Und eh' ich es gedacht,
So zuckte seine Rute,
Das Fischlein zappelt dran,
Und ich mit regem Blute
Sah die Betrog'ne an.
But at last the thief
grew tired of waiting. He
treacherously muddied the brook,
and before I knew it,
his rod jerked,
the little fish was wriggling on it,
and I, my blood stirred,
looked at the one betrayed.
grew tired of waiting. He
treacherously muddied the brook,
and before I knew it,
his rod jerked,
the little fish was wriggling on it,
and I, my blood stirred,
looked at the one betrayed.
About the song. Schubart's poem has a fourth stanza warning young girls against seducers; Schubert left it out, so the song is simply about the trout and the cunning angler. The rippling piano figure became the theme of the variations in Schubert's 'Trout' Quintet, D. 667. 'Angel' is a fishing rod, and 'launisch' means capricious.
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Translation © Art Song Translations. You may print it free of charge in concert and recital programs with the credit "Translation: Art Song Translations". The German text is in the public domain; repetitions made by the composer are not printed.
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