‘The Lorelei’ by Heine and ‘Sweet Idling’ by Storm, Translated by Bruce Phenix

The Lorelei

by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)
translated from German by Bruce Phenix

I don’t know what it can mean,
such sadness do I find
in a tale from ancient times
which never leaves my mind.

The air is cool, it grows dark;
the Rhine flows quietly down;
the hill, in the evening sun,
has a sparkle on its crown.

The loveliest maiden sits—
a wondrous sight—up there;
her golden jewels flash,
she combs her golden hair.

She combs it with golden comb,
and meanwhile sings a song;
the melody it has
is wonderful and strong.

The boatman in the small boat
it grips with violent grief;
he looks up at the hill,
not down at the rocky reef.

I believe the waves engulf
boatman and boat by and by;
and that is what it’s done,
the song of the Lorelei.

Original German

Die Lorelei

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.

Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt
Im Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar.

Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme
Und singt ein Lied dabei,
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt’ge Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh’.

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
Die Lorelei getan.

Sweet Idling

by Theodor Storm (1817-1888)
translated from German by Bruce Phenix

Sweet idling—close by the beloved’s side,
To rest upon the hill’s round, sunlit top;
Now to the small town’s clustered houses drop
One’s gaze, now send it outward, far and wide!
Sweet idling—spellbound in such lovely dreams,
To breathe the scents that nature newly frees;
To let spring tempt one with its gentle breeze
To move down to the land lit up by beams;
Then back from those far wonders one may roam
To find your starry eyes that speak of home.

Original German

O süßes Nichtstun

O süßes Nichtstun, an der Liebsten Seite
Zu ruhen auf des Bergs besonnter Kuppe;
Bald abwärts zu des Städtchens Häusergruppe
Den Blick zu senden, bald in ferne Weite!
O süßes Nichtstun, lieblich so gebannt
Zu atmen in den neubefreiten Düften;
Sich locken lassen von den Frühlingslüften
Hinabzuziehn in das beglänzte Land;
Rückkehren dann aus aller Wunderferne
In deiner Augen heimatliche Sterne.

Bruce Phenix worked as a civil servant in England from 1983 until his retirement in 2021, in various administrative roles in transport and environment. He has a longstanding interest in foreign languages and other cultures and his translations have been published in numerous, including in the Norton Anthology of World Masterpieces. He also has extensive experience, over a period of 35 years, in giving English language support to students from Far Eastern backgrounds. He won the Yeats Club’s 1989 Catullus Award for the best translation from an ancient language.