Asche und Blüten: Ein Liebeslied an das Leben (German Edition)

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Das Orchester imitiert die morgendlichen Vogelstimmen. The arietta is a happy piece, in which the tenor Paul tells us that the one he loves treats him rather badly and ignores him — but still, he knows that she really loves him. The libretto is by Ignaz Franz Castelli. Das Libretto stammt von Ignaz Franz Castelli.

Gustave Flaubert: Frau Bovary

The opera, according to Weigl, was not a success. It expresses the humanity of Tsar Peter the Great, who married a commoner: Katherine — or Katinka, as he calls her here. The libretto is again by Georg Friedrich Treitschke. Das Libretto verfasste Georg Friedrich Treitschke. Beethoven considered this opera to be a masterpiece.

Weigl Song Texts

In this aria Licinius calls upon his followers to save Julia from her death sentence. The German text is by Ignaz von Seyfried. Beethoven betrachtete diese Oper als Meisterwerk. Der deutsche Text stammt von Ignaz von Seyfried. The Emperor Titus addresses the crown and praises Rome and its citizens. The citizens of Rome were called Quirites. The German text is perhaps by Caesar Max Heigel. The additional text is by is Lorenzo da Ponte.

The text to this aria reminds one of a prayer.

Pickup, the ride and dropoff

In it the singer pleads with Amor to help Nina regain her sanity. Der Text zu dieser Arie erinnert an ein Gebet. Here, the singer realizes that his pain and suffering knows no bounds. The Libretto is by Giovanni Bertati. The singer wishes to know who his father is, but is repeatedly rebuffed — driving him into a rage appropriately expressed in coloratura.

Dem Sturme folgt die Heiterkeit und lacht. The storm is followed by joy, and laughs.

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The earth puts on, after wintertime, Her spring dress full of splendor; The night flees far before the morning. The lakes color themsleves blue. The sun chases the gray of the fogs From the Alpine peaks Mountain Springs sweetly soak the meadows. Therefore whether you go day after day in agony, And all around you people falter And leave you alone: Be happy: Everything changes!

It might be! Lasst uns im vertrauten Kreise Trinklied Publ. And by following their lead, And taking care of our bellies, Honor their ashes. Only glass, but yet crystal, Though not of precious metal, Are indeed our cups. Not according to the golden rule, But according to the golden liquor, Behaves the true drinker. Soldatenabschied wiegt nicht schwer: Leb wohl schmuck Nachbarkind! Du Reiterhand, lass los das Glas; Trompeter, blas dein Liedel, blas! Ins Feld hinaus zu reiten. Trompeter, blas, o blas! Wir traben in den Tag hinein, wir traben in die Nacht.

Beim Sonnenlicht, beim Mondenschein, am liebsten in die Schlacht. The early morning breeze plays back and forth with my little flag.

Ride out into the field beyond. Trumpeter, blow, Oh blow!

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We trot into the day, we trot into the night. By sunlight or by moonlight, eager for battle. You brown field, you green grass; trumpeter, blow your little song, blow! Gute Mutter! So in stummen Schmerz versunken? Aber weine nicht, wenn ich von dir geschieden, Sterben ist des Daseins Ende nicht. Wolltest trostlos, wie ein banger Zweifler trauern, Der kein lohnend bessers Leben glaubt?

Good mother!

get link So submerged in silent pain? Silent tears in your resigned gaze? You, even you lost the last spark of hope, You poor one, with this untimely mishap. What is indeed the hopeful bloom of youth, That the next rough wind might so easily steal it? Soon, the muffled death-bell will toll for me, And my bones will decay to dust; Already have I seen the funeral procession to the cemetery, With heartfelt tears honoring me.


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My beautiful May, indeed, is gone too soon And the rosy light of hope no longer burns. But do not cry when I part from you, Dying is not the end of existence. The quiet sleep embraces me now in peace, Until a beautiful morning light awakens me. Precious mother, did you want to pity me, That God allows me to sleep so early? Did you want, inconsolably, to mourn like a miserable doubter, Who cannot believe in the reward of a better life beyond? O noble one! If, with quiet kindness, You ever strew spring flowers on my grave, And, with sorrowing heart, still wish To consecrate my ashes with your tears.

Yes, you will find me in that Valley of Flowers Where love knows no sorrow; Where lovely, liberated spirits enwreathe us, And no hostile fate can ever separate us. Doch, mehr, muss sie gefallen. So as I wandered here, so alone, Where snowy flowers showered I heard sheep, ding, dingaling, And grazing in the flowering meadows.

O wie dann Wunderhold das Herz So mild und lieblich stimmt! O wie man dann so wohlgemut, So friedlich lebt und webt! Wie um das Lager, wo man ruht, Der Schlaf so segnend schwebt! Jetzt rafft ein Geist der Ungeduld Es oft mir aus der Brust. Kennst du es wohl? Kennst du das Haus? Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg? Kennst du ihn wohl? The original manuscript is at the BeethovenHaus.

Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben? Welch ein fremdes neues Leben! Ich erkenne dich nicht mehr! Wir knicken und ersticken Doch gleich, wenn einer sticht.

Das merkt er, ach! O seht mich an, mich Arme an, O seht mich an, und flieht! An den fernen Geliebten, Opus , version 1.

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