Übersetzung / Translation
von / by Walter A. Aue




Theodor Storm:

Oktoberlied

Der Nebel steigt, es fällt das Laub;
Schenk ein den Wein, den holden!
Wir wollen uns den grauen Tag
Vergolden, ja vergolden!

Und geht es draußen noch so toll,
Unchristlich oder christlich,
Ist doch die Welt, die schöne Welt,
So gänzlich unverwüstlich!

Und wimmert auch einmal das Herz -
Stoß an und laß es klingen!
Wir wissen's doch, ein rechtes Herz
Ist gar nicht umzubringen.

Der Nebel steigt, es fällt das Laub;
Schenk ein den Wein, den holden!
Wir wollen uns den grauen Tag
Vergolden, ja vergolden!

Wohl ist es Herbst; doch warte nur,
Doch warte nur ein Weilchen!
Der Frühling kommt, der Himmel lacht,
Es steht die Welt in Veilchen.

Die blauen Tage brechen an,
Und ehe sie verfließen,
Wir wollen sie, mein wackrer Freund,
Genießen, ja genießen!




Theodor Storm (1817-1888)





Theodor Storm:

October Song

The rising fog, the falling leaves:
to wine we are beholden!
The grayish day no longer grieves:
it's golden, yes, it's golden!

And if all madness be unfurled
(by church or temple polished),
this world, this most amazing world,
can never be demolished.

And even if the heart should smart
let glasses sound the meeting!
For all we know, a righteous heart
will never stop its beating.

The rising fog, the falling leaves:
to wine we are beholden!
The grayish day no longer grieves:
it's golden, yes, it's golden!

Though it is fall, wait just a while,
just wait and keep consuming!
The spring arrives, the sky is blue,
the violets are blooming.

The days of blue shall be at hand,
and ere they all shall leave us,
we'll let the wine, my noble friend,
reprieve us, yes, reprieve us!




I was tempted to call this poem "Happy Hour". But that would have been a cruel joke. An unfathomable ocean lies between drinking in Germany and drinking in America, not to mention the pecuniary advantage of what a euphemism here calls the Happy Hour. Perhaps the spirit of the poem shall serve to explain?

You take me to task for not precisely getting the semantics right? I got the spirit right, didn't I? And didn't I say that the spirit of the poem shall explain? For the spirit is strong (though the flesh might be weak)...

Let's have another round before the blues arrive...



...



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Posted: July 2008

N.B.: The frame around the poems
shows October squash from Lower Austria.

Want to see the original photograph?