Introduction

The following section contains analyses and translations of the poem texts of all the Lieder I played in the project’s three major concerts. (Analyses and translations of the fifteen poems from “Das Buch der hängenden Gärten” can be found here.)

Although these poems are only indirectly related to Opus 15, as they either were written by Stefan George, set by Arnold Schönberg or set to music in 1908 or 1909, and thus are not part of the core of my project, I include them here. I also provide an audio example of each song, either from the related project concert or from one of the lecture recitals I gave. I wrote all analyses before knowing the music apart from Schönberg’s Opus 2 and Berg’s Sieben frühe Lieder, which I was familiar with before. I started on the translations after I began to practice the Lieder and worked on them until each concert. I believe the juxtaposition of my early thoughts on the poetry, the later translations and the music examples can provide insights into some aspects of the artistic process that shaped my understanding of Opus 15. Despite not being artistic research themselves, the analyses were necessary as a starting point for developing reliable and valid performances1 of these Lieder. I also think they are too valuable for other performers not to include here. Although each performer has to gain his or her own understanding of the material, my analyses and translations might be able to bridge the language gap for non-native speakers and provide the basis for a deeper understanding of the Lied texts.

For each poem, I give the original text. Changes found in the score are marked  with the exception of the capitalisation of words at the beginning of verses, Stefan George’s use of small initial letters for nouns and his use of “ss” instead of “ß”. I provide translations into English and Norwegian and refer to alternative translations where I know about them.

For a better understanding of the sound of the poetry, I transcribed their pronunciation in the international phonetic alphabet (IPA) and analysed rhymes and metre.

The IPA transcriptions were mostly taken from Kleiner et al. (2015), but I adapted them as sung language differs from spoken language, most notably in words that are usually pronounced with syllabic consonants.2 However, as phonetics in singing depend on the context and musical parameters like pitch or the length of a note, the transcription can only be an approximation. Pronunciation in singing involves interpretation and is often also a question of taste.3 As in Kleiner et al. (2015), I transcribed the letter “r” as either [ɐ] or [ɐ̯] when it is pronounced vocalically and as [r] when it is pronounced consonantally. I recommend non-native singers to use Ophaug’s model4 when deciding on the pronunciation of /r/ in German classical singing. The symbol [ʔ] has been used to indicate a glottal stop. Glottal stops are only marked within words, not at vocalic initial sounds. I transcribed the words of the poems as they would be pronounced today without considering possible variations that would allow words to rhyme.5

In the case of ambiguities in metre, either question marks indicate uncertain stresses or alternative readings are provided.

 1.

“Aus den knospen quellen sachte” is the second poem in Stefan George’s cycle Sänge eines fahrenden Spielmanns (Strains of a Wandering Gleeman) from Die Bücher der Hirten- und Preisgedichte, der Sagen und Sänge und der hängenden Gärten (The Books of Eclogues and Eulogies, of Legends and Lays, and of the Hanging Gardens).12 According to Robert Vilain, the cycle “lyrically develop[s] the theme of love from the first part of the Buch der Sagen und Sänge, but with the emphasis on loss, on the unattainability of the object of desire.”13

The poem consists of nine trochaic verses. Its visual form and rhyme scheme divide it into two uneven parts. The first triplet describes how drops of dew well out of buds because sunlight shone on them. Due to many consonant combinations ([kn], [sp], [kv], [χt], [tr], [pf]) the first verses flow slowly, resulting in a calm and peaceful atmosphere. In contrast to the surrounding verses of eight syllables, the second verse consists of only five syllables. The shortness emphasises the image of the drops whose shape is visualised through the letter O: “Tropfen voll”. The third verse conveys a lighter atmosphere through the personification of the (sun) light which “lachte” (laughed or smiled) upon the buds. The positivity of the verse is emphasised by the alliterations “Da das” and “licht […] lachte”, which give an element of playfulness to the image. The sunlight, the dew and the buds hint at both the time of day (morning) and the time of year (early spring).

The second part of the poem starts with the speaker’s question “Und wenn meine tränen fliessen?” (And if my tears are falling?). Now, the drops from the previous verses are compared to tears. Unlike the dewdrops, which well up gently (“quellen”), the tears flow or pour more heavily (“fliessen”). Thus, they convey a strong feeling of sadness, which is enhanced by the contrast between “lachte” (laughed) in the third verse and “tränen” (tears) in the fourth verse. As it consists only of a subordinate clause, the speaker’s question is incomplete and thus underlines the feeling of hopelessness that comes across in the second part of the poem. As stated in the two following verses the speaker is now aware of what he or she did not know before. The last triplet expresses the speaker’s growing despair and specifies that spring has given him or her hope, perhaps after the loss of love, but when spring is over, this hope will be gone as well. The speaker did not sense it the day before, but now it is clear that he or she cannot be happy again. The last verse, “Neue sonne, junges jahr” is emphasised in several ways. It addresses the sun and the year directly and consists only of these two nouns with preceding adjectives. The alliteration “junges jahr” lays further emphasis on the end of the poem. Thus, it seems as if the speaker almost begs them to stay, so he or she will not lose this ultimate comfort.

 2.

In George’s cycle Sänge eines fahrenden Spielmanns,17 “Aus den knospen quellen sachte” is followed by “Dass ich deine Unschuld rühre”. Ansorge chose to set the cycle’s following, fourth poem “Heisst es viel dich bitten”18 as the second lied in Opus 14. It elaborates on the speaker’s longing for an unattainable love.

The poem consists of three stanzas. The identical rhymes “still” and “mag” appear in the second and fourth verse of every stanza, whereas the first and third verse of each stanza rhyme with each other. This rhyme scheme and the regular metre give the poem a simple, songlike quality. Each stanza ends with a question mark, although grammatically the first two stanzas form one long question and the last stanza another shorter question.

In the first two stanzas, the speaker asks another person if he has to beg a lot if he wants to kneel in front of her and brush her hand with a kiss. From this question and the title of the cycle, one can deduce that a medieval minstrel is singing to or courting a lady. Therefore, although the gender of neither person is specified, presumably the speaker is male, and the addressee is female. The first stanza begins with the tentative phrase “Heisst es viel dich bitten”. Instead of asking directly, the minstrel inquires if he would have to plead a lot to get his wish fulfilled. He appears very humble, phrasing the question in an impersonal way19 and expressing the small wish to kneel only silently in front of the other. Any interaction of a more direct and personal kind seems unthinkable. The speaker’s long suffering mentioned in the third verse implies that the woman did either not previously grant his wish or that it happened a long time ago and that her disregard since then has caused his pain. The iambic metre contrasts the surrounding trochaic verses, thus putting further emphasis on the speaker’s remark on suffering away from the other.

The adverbs „still“ (quietly) in the second verse and „Leise” (gently) in the sixth verse and the accumulation of similar modifiers in the eighth verse underline how modest the minstrel’s wish is. He does not want to disturb the other. His consideration and humility also put pressure on the other as it would be unreasonable or cruel not to grant such a small favour. This pressure is intensified in the last stanza. For the first time in the poem, the other person is characterised through the speaker’s question. The woman’s dismissive attitude is described as “gestreng” (stern) and “still” (quiet, silent) in the tenth verse. She only endures the speaker’s presence and appears very passive and impersonal as she does so without “disturbing” (stören) him. The personification of “Wink”, which can mean nod, hint, sign or beckon, in the twelfth verse further underlines the distance between the two people. It is not she who tolerates the speaker’s presence; it is only her “Wink”. This image is emphasised by the sudden iambic metre, which contrasts the previous trochees. The repeated words “still” and “mag” have different connotations when they appear for the final time in the tenth and twelfth verse. Previously, “still” (quiet, silent) was associated with humility and the wish not to disturb the other. In the last stanza, it appears to be more defensive and distanced. In the two first stanzas, “mag” can be read as “want to” or “would like to”. It expresses a wish rather than a possibility. In the last stanza, however, it can best be translated with “may” instead. The word conveys more uncertainty, again underlining the uneven relationship between the speaker and the addressee. Although the speaker seems to wish little in the beginning, the question of the third stanza conveys a longing for more than silent tolerance. Throughout the poem, the speaker’s growing unhappiness is mirrored in the darkening vowels of the rhyme words “bitten”/”gelitten”, “ergreifen”/”streifen” and “erhören”/stören”. The repetitiveness of the rhyme words “still” and “mag” throughout the poem underlines the single-mindedness of the speaker’s longing.  

3.

Like the previous two poems, also the third text set by Ansorge is part of George’s Sänge eines fahrenden Spielmanns. It is the sixth poem of this cycle and is preceded by “So ich traurig bin” which Anton Webern set to music in his Opus 4.

The poem consists of three stanzas containing four verses each. All verses are trochaic and end in unstressed syllables. The regular rhythm gives the text a songlike quality. As indicated by the cycle’s title, the poem is one of several songs of a vagrant minstrel. However, this poem is not about courting a woman. It is a “poem of renunciation”.28 The speaker prefers to leave the other person “rather than to trouble her even with the mere telling of ‘Menschen müh und weh’”.29 Kosler (2007) points out that George might have recognised himself in the minstrel’s position as an outsider who displays the truth of the world in a pleasing way but does not participate in the life he conveys. As someone who knows he is the opposite of the innocence to which he is attracted.30 Kosler states further that the poem bears witness to the three primary motives that shall characterise George’s later poetry: austerity, farewell and loneliness.31

The imperative “Sieh mein kind ich gehe” (Look, my child, I go) opens the poem and is repeated once in the second (v. 6) and again in the third stanza (v. 12). Schäfer (2005) observes that the verse has different connotations each time: first announcement, then detachment and in the end farewell.32 There are no hints as to who the addressee is apart from the way the speaker talks to her or him. As the speaker is a minstrel, one might assume he sings to a woman, but the poem itself gives no indication of the other’s gender or actual age. The person is addressed as “Kind” (child), perhaps to convey her relative youth or innocence.

The first stanza explains that her innocence and inexperience with the world cause the speaker’s departure. The stanza implies the woman would get to know grief and hardship if he did not leave. The speaker seems to be afraid of inadvertently hurting her and of the woman losing her innocence because of the presence of his world-weariness in her life. Addressing her somewhat patronisingly as “mein kind” and forbidding her to know,33 he takes a higher, lecturing position.

The language and the metre are simple. All words in the first stanza consist of either one or two syllables. Alliterations in the second to fourth verse34 add an artistic quality to the minstrel’s song. The fourth verse seems slightly archaic and is, therefore, harder to understand. The word “müh” could be read as an adjective.35 It might be related to the noun “Mühe” meaning “trouble” or “toil”, or it might allude to the adjective “müd” or “müde” meaning “tired”. In this case, the second and fourth verse could be translated as “For you must not know […] tired/troubled and sore people.” As George used only small letters in his poems apart from the start of each verse, it is also possible to read “Müh” and “Wehe” as nouns. In that case, however, the genitive is not constructed properly. To be understood as a genitive and translated as “people’s toil and woe”, the phrase should be “Der Menschen Müh und Wehe”.

In the second stanza, the speaker states he is afraid for the other and does not want the fragrance on her cheek to disappear. The scent on the cheek appears intangible and fleeting and could easily be blown away. It is the only image in the whole poem and symbolises the woman’s youthful innocence.

The third stanza conveys what the speaker thinks might happen in the future if he did not leave. He would lecture the other and hurt them. Braungart points out that the lecturing seems both destructive and unavoidable. The relationship between child and speaker would have to head for this lecturing. In the speaker’s mind, the child could only become aware of herself through destructive lecturing.36 The speaker would not be able to bear this and decides therefore to leave the other.

The poem mirrors the speaker’s departure in several ways. According to Schäfer, the rhyme scheme changes from enclosed rhyme (abba), which might illustrate an embrace of the child, to alternate rhyme (caca) symbolising a state of change, to rhyming couplets (ddaa) which convey the separation of the speaker and the other.37 He points further out that the reversed positions of “gehe” and “wehe” in the last stanza intensify the image of separation as the last phrase “Sieh mein kind ich gehe” is the final verse with nothing to follow.38 The increasing distance to the child is also conveyed through the use of different conjunctional clauses. The causal clause39 in the first stanza gets weaker in the second stanza40 and even weaker, merely additive41 in the third stanza.42

Farewell and separation are conveyed in several ways, yet the language remains straightforward and easy-going. As Kosler points out, renunciation is expressed without pain and lament or the heroic gestures that were typical of George’s later work. It is accepted without being trivialised.43

4.

“Meine weissen ara haben safrangelbe kronen”48 is the eighth poem from Stefan George’s Das Buch der hängenden Gärten. It is followed by two of the collection’s four poems with individual titles, “Vorbereitungen” (Preparations) and “Friedensabend” (Peaceful Evening),49 and the fifteen poems in the central section of the Buch that George’s friend and muse Ida Coblenz called Semiramis-Lieder50 and that were set to music by Arnold Schönberg.

In the poem, the speaker tells about his macaws that sleep in their cage. They never sing or fly, but according to the speaker, they dream of the date trees that are far away. Waters (2005) calls this “another image of royal and exotic birds that varies this recurring picture of a painful and insuperable divide between art and life. […] Rare, isolated from the world, crowned, and arranged “in schlanken ringen,” the parrots epitomize a realm of formal aesthetics […] [D]ozing, they nod, as if assenting to their confinement for beauty’s sake.”51

The poem consists of eighth trochaic verses of first decreasing and then increasing length. This shape points at the two middle verses, which emphasise the macaws’ passivity. Enjambments connect the second to fourth and the seventh and eighth verses. Hence, the flow stops in the middle of the poem, especially in the fourth verse which is interrupted by a caesura. Both the fourth and fifth verse are not only end-stopped but also stressed on the last syllable and thus further highlighted. The rhyme scheme of two rhyming couplets enclosing an enclosed rhyme (aabccbdd) points again towards the middle of the poem in addition to mirroring the birds’ confinement.

The first verse gives a description of the birds. They are “ara”, a genus of macaws native to tropical North and South America and known to German crossword puzzle solvers as a possible solution for “parrot”. George might have chosen it only for its qualities as a palindrome, considering the description he gives does not fit the appearance of Ara macaws, which are large parrots with long tails and colourful plumage.52

In medieval times, parrots were kept as luxury animals at court.53 Thus, it makes sense that the speaker from Das Buch der hängenden Gärten who appears to be a king or a prince54 owns these animals. The macaws in the poem are white, a colour associated with purity. The adjective used to describe the colour of their crest, “safrangelbe” (saffron yellow), is very specific. Saffron is the most expensive spice in the world. Hence the birds appear very precious. George did not use the standard word “Haube” for “crest”. Instead, the birds have “kronen” (crowns) which heighten their status further and also make it possible for the reader to perceive the speaker and his macaws as interchangeable beings.

The repeated assonances mostly in the beginning of the poem are striking. As Schäfer (2005) points out, George plays with symmetries, mirroring, repetition and transfer of vowels and phonemes respectively.55 The artistic language might mirror the beauty of the birds who, despite their confinement, seem elegant in their “schlanken ringen” (slender rings, v. 3). However, they are passive and apathetic. The verb “nicken” can mean either “to nod” or “to nap”. Either activity could be interpreted as the bird’s resignation to their fate. The distinction between call and song in the following verse is ornithologically correct, but it also depicts the rings graphically: “Ohne ruf ohne sang”.56 In addition, two stressed syllables enclose one unstressed syllable twice, like two rings might frame two birds.

The two following verses highlight the birds’ passivity again. According to the fifth verse, they doze for a long time, which is conveyed both through the verse’s phonemes and graphemes. “Schlummern” is due to its consonant combinations one of the articulatory longest disyllabic words in German. It is also one among those that need most space in writing.57 Despite containing only three syllables, the fifth verse is almost equally long in writing as the previous one of six syllables. As stated in the sixth verse, the macaws do not spread their wings. The adverb “niemals” (never) makes this statement absolute and conveys the birds’ acceptance of their confinement.

The first six verses provide outer observations made by the speaker. The atmosphere is slightly melancholic, especially due to the decreasing flow towards the fourth and fifth verse. In the last two verses, the mood gets even more hopeless. The opening verse “Meine weissen ara”, is repeated, thus putting emphasis on the last couplet as well as underlining the speaker’s role as owner of the macaws. He talks in place of the birds, who are silent. He “ascribes to them dreams of faraway freedom — dreams for which he, as the birds’ captor, was already in a certain sense responsible.” According to Waters, “this mediation of the macaws’ vision conveys something that originates with the speaker himself (or “was caused by” him, or “is merely imagined by” him, or, strangely, both).”58

The birds dream of remote date trees, which like the birds themselves appear exotic to a European reader. According to the poem, the birds and date trees belong together. The birds are not at home in their cages. However, they might not be as physically far away from the date trees as it seems at first sight. Date palms have been cultivated in North Africa and the Middle East since antiquity.59 Thus, the poem appears to be in abeyance in several ways: Birds and speaker might be interchangeable; one might stand for the other. The confinement might be real or presumed. Waters states: “[Meine weissen ara] depicts an aesthetic entity shielded from an external world that would jeopardize it. But more, […] the relation of the self-contained emblem of art to the world outside is simultaneously essential — it is against that greater world that the willed limitation of aesthetic circumscription is defined — and at the same time elusive, unreliable, groundless. The lines that purport to connect what is imagined or dreamed with what is known and verifiable instead curve back to the fantasy world bewilderingly.”60

5. Waller im Schnee. Ein Cyclus in vier Gesängen

Ansorge chose the first, second, eighth and ninth poem from Waller im Schnee (Pilgrim in the Snow61) for the last four songs of his Op. 14, “Waller im Schnee. Ein Cyclus in vier Gesängen”.

Waller im Schnee constitutes the second part of Das Jahr der Seele (The Year of the Soul), which is George’s fifth volume of poetry and was first published by George’s own Verlag der Blätter für die Kunst in 1897 and one year later, but marked with the year 1899, by Georg Bondi.62 George wrote Waller im Schnee in the autumn and winter of 1892. The plan for the whole book existed since 1895.63 The title, Das Jahr der Seele, is a translation of the Latin “annum animae” that George originally had in mind as a title for the book. Schultz (2005) points out that it alludes to Hölderlin’s “Menons Klagen um Diotima” (Menon’s Mourning of Diotima),64 but according to Morwitz (1969), George did not know Hölderlin’s elegy at the time.65

The book consists of three parts. Only the first part covers the actual “year” that is divided into the three seasons autumn (Nach der Lese), winter (Waller im Schnee) and summer (Sieg des Sommers). The poems do not explore the sequence of the seasons or different atmospheres in nature. Instead, nature and the seasons are a frame for inner experiences and feelings that are conveyed in a symbolist technique of cloaking, suggestive expression.66 Schultz notes: “Artistically, Das Jahr der Seele is an experiment in personal disclosure, in painting a landscape of emotions kept in check by understated language and simple form. The plangent, intimate tone, together with a seemingly transparent story of loss, made it George’s most popular collection.”67  

The autumn and winter poems tell about “a pair of would-be lovers — man and woman — strolling through parks, rowing on ponds, sitting in rooms, conversing by moonlight, and generally sharing an intimate understanding of all things aesthetic.”68 Although George denied the importance of personal information like names of people and places in his preface to the second edition,69 the season poems are influenced by his relationship with Ida Coblenz70 that broke when Coblenz got involved with the poet Richard Dehmel whom George despised.71 According to Schultz, they also “tell of George’s frustrated courting of poetic language at the time. Whether it is with an actual woman, with the Muses or with a split self, the relationship is lacking […] The summer sequence, “Sieg des Sommers” (Triumph of Summer), leaves the woman behind. The “I” sets out to embrace a “brother” beckoning on the other shore of the divide. A new, happier adventure, a more promising interval begins”.72

5a.

George’s Waller im Schnee starts with “Die steine die in meiner strasse staken”, which like all poems in the season collections of Das Jahr der Seele has no title. The poem describes a landscape in winter and a speaker who wanders alone in the cold. It addresses the speaker’s death wish and his will to find shelter once again as hope might be closer than expected.

Its rhyme scheme and content divide the poem into three parts. In George’s literary magazine Blätter für die Kunst, it was printed with three stanzas, the second of which contained two additional verses.86 The manuscript, on which the private edition of 1897 was based, divided the poem into four quatrains, probably to create a visual match to the surrounding poems. Both the private and the public editions adopted this layout with four stanzas.87 I base my analysis on the form with three stanzas that can be found in the collected edition of George’s work.88 Therefore, I do not agree with Simon (2011), who claims that the rhyme scheme translates terza rima into quatrains and that the resulting asymmetry generates an internal resistance.89 In my view, two sextains with the regular rhyme scheme abc abc (or fgh fgh) frame a quatrain of alternate rhymes (dede). The symmetry of stanzas and rhymes points towards the middle of the poem where the speaker’s despair and loneliness are most apparent. The first eight verses describe the landscape and how the speaker perceives it. The last eight verses elaborate on his wishes and longing.

The first stanza opens with a description of how the stones of the street disappear in the snow. The speaker walks into an open and untouched landscape. As Simon points out, the reader wants to understand the first verse metaphorically, especially due to the possessive pronoun “meiner” (my).90 The street might represent the speaker’s journey through life. It is marked by the stones that are now covered by snow. As they are no longer visible, the speaker might have lost his way. Simon draws attention to the elaborate start of the poem with the alliteration “steine […] strasse staken” and a lot of assonances (“Die steine die in meiner strasse staken”), which is covered immediately by the next verse “Verschwanden alle” (disappeared all).91 Many present-day readers might be unfamiliar with the word “staken” whose meaning is ambiguous. Considering the context and the past tense of the second verse, here, “staken” is most likely the past tense of “stecken” meaning to stick or to be pinned to something. The choice of this verb with its rather aggressive sounding consonants makes the stones appear to be more than markers of the way. They might even become obstacles that, when being covered by snow, cause the speaker to stumble.

In the first and second stanza, George employs different images for the snow. First, he describes it as a soft, extensive womb that goes up to the sky. As the German word “Himmel” can mean both “sky” and “heaven”, the image invites associations with birth, life and death. The snow seems endless and welcoming. In the fourth verse, it is depicted as a pale sheet that the flakes are still weaving on. And finally, in the ninth verse, it is simply a white surface. Although the different metaphors create tension, especially as they relate to both a horizontal (laken, plan) and a vertical plane (schooss, wirbel, abgrund),92 they all convey the errant way snow can behave as well as different, sometimes even opposing ideas of death. The womb invites the speaker back to where he came from. The pale sheet might as well be a burial shroud. The white plan could symbolise nothingness. As Bleutge (2014) points out, George also manages to convey the way snow behaves through the sound of his writing. Waving rhythms that again and again are stopped by monosyllabic words, s-sounds, intertwined rhymes and assonances integrate the flakes “weaving” into the language.93

The speaker gets characterised for the first time in the second half of the first stanza. When the wind blows snowflakes into his eyelashes, they shake as if he cries. This image can be understood in different ways. Either, there are no tears, only snowflakes that make the eyelashes react. The speaker is numb and feels nothing. Or, the speaker does cry but is perhaps too exhausted to feel the difference.

The second stanza confirms that the speaker lost his way. He tries to look up to the stars for guidance. The personification of the stars that cruelly leave him alone in the grim night underlines the speaker’s loneliness. The way his wish to die is phrased (“langsam […] Mir selber unbewusst gebettet sein”) is intriguing, as it implies not unfeelingness but too much feeling. The speaker wants to be unconscious of himself. According to Bleutge, the rhymes “allein – sein” and “führerlos hinan – plan” as well as the dense composition of a-, e- and u-sounds make the speaker’s isolation, but also the temptation of the snow’s nothingness more vivid for the reader.94

The powerful attraction of death is underlined through the alliteration of voiced sibilants in the eleventh and twelfth verse (“wenn […] wirbel […] todeswinde”) that convey the movement of the strong winds of death onomatopoetically.The winds of death seem to be familiar or very close to the speaker, as he addresses them directly. However, the winds hit the speaker only gently (“gelinde”, v. 12). Thus, he has the possibility to reconsider. There might still be hope as described in the three last verses. The poem is written in regular iambic pentameter with the thirteenth verse as the only exception. Here, it is easy for the reader to perceive the start to be dactylic with an upbeat as “einmal” is stressed on the first syllable. It seems as if the speaker is shaken awake from his death wish at that moment. Instead of giving himself up to the elements, he once again tries to find shelter.

Simon contemplates the possibility of the poem referring to itself. The snow could be a white sheet on which former poems were like the stones of the street which has now disappeared. The poet is looking for inspiration in vain. Thus, he wants to meet himself. He wants to lay, unconsciously or unknowingly, ready to receive the pen and to generate his own act of writing.95 In light of the general lack of illusions in George’s poetry, a stereotypical interpretation of spring conquering winter would not do justice to the poem. Considering that texts like this always expose the complete system of their poetic formation, Simon adds that the last quatrain might speak about the reader. A just reading would be the shelter, which for the poem itself is unreachable “hinter jenen höhenzügen”. Even the successful interpretation would only be a mild breeze (“lauer hauch”). It would be hope, not in the form of salvation, but as an answer.96 

5b.

In the second poem from Waller im Schnee, the speaker has found a companion with whom the journey or pilgrimage becomes easier than in the previous poem and who, like him, perceives the austere winter landscape as something beautiful.

The poem consists of three quatrains. Two stanzas with enclosed rhyme frame one stanza with alternate rhyme. The rhyme scheme mirrors the couple’s relationship. They walk next to each other, as conveyed by the alternate rhyme in the middle, but they belong together. The speaker embraces his soulmate like the outer verses embrace the middle verses and the outer stanzas embrace the middle stanza. The verses flow in a regular, uninterrupted iambic pentameter that underlines the harmony and peace the speaker feels both towards the world and his new companion.

At the beginning of the poem, the speaker sees just a glimmer of hope. As stated in the first verse, he does not seem to know yet if it is real (“Mir ist als ob” – “It seems to me”). It is just a small glow that gleams in the dark and might not become a proper light or fire as it just smoulders(“glimme”). However, it is immediately apparent that this glimmer of hope comes from another person since the speaker refers to it as a gaze (“blick”). In the beginning, the relationship between him and this other person is unequal. It is the addressee who chooses the speaker as a companion (v.2), not the other way around. The “I” is passive, whereas the “you” is active in both the second and the fourth verse (“du mich”, “mich dein”). The other trembles when choosing the speaker as a companion. This reaction could be a sign of excitement, fear or humility. The word “bebend” implies intense emotions that cause the addressee’s body to react.103 The speaker is moved by the other’s trembling, step and voice, which prompt him to bless the arduous journey. His emotional reaction is emphasised by the epexegetic construction of the sentence. The fourth verse is added to the already complete sentence and gets thus highlighted. The repeated adverb “so” (vv. 2, 4) and the alliteration “dein schritt […] deine stimme” (v. 4) lay further emphasis on the speaker’s awe. The repetition of the letter b in the first three verses (“blick”, “bebend”, “begleite”, “benedeite”) adds to the “subtle eroticism”104 of the scene.

According to the fifth verse, it is the other’s praise of the winter landscape that causes the speaker’s appreciation of its beauty. Now, the snow and ice on the trees remind him of “silberlaub” (silver foliage) in the cool light. Alliterations (“priesest  […] pracht”/ “frei […] freude”) underline the splendour of the landscape. The quietness of the scene is both referred to directly (“stillen”, v. 5) and through the negation of the opposite (“frei der lauten”, v. 7). Both the silver light and the quietness imply it is late evening or night. The speaker and his companion see the beauty of the landscape in its lack of emotions. Neither joy nor grievance is present. Therefore, they call the earth “die einsam keusche fahle” (v. 8). Although “einsam” (lonely) and “fahle” (pale) individually could be considered negative adjectives, the accumulation makes them appear to refer to something beautiful.

In the eighth verse, the speaker addresses himself and the other as “we” for the first time. Previously, his companion was active, and he reacted. Now, they belong together and feel and say the same. Raw forces still exist in nature (v. 9), but they appear less threatening to the speaker and his companion, at least for the moment. The forces of nature take the position of gods whom they confess to. Religious images and words with spiritual connotations permeate the whole poem: The speaker blesses his journey. His companion praises the chaste earth. They confess to higher forces. They hear sounds in the pure air and see the sky fill up with shapes of celestial beings. Thus, the meeting with the other becomes a moment of revelation to the speaker that affects several of his senses. Together, they hear sounds in a landscape that was previously described as silent, and they see shapes that make the cold winter night appear more sublime than a night in May. The accumulation of consecutive clauses (vv. 10, 11) underlines how emotional this epiphany is for them.

Nevertheless, only the first verse is written in present tense, while verses two to twelve are in past tense. Despite these extraordinary experiences of ecstatic joy in the past, there is only a small glimmer of hope in the present. 

5c.

The eighth part of Waller im Schnee describes the separation of the two companions from the previous poems through the image of the destruction of a flower that is dying despite the speaker’s good care. He prefers to break it rather than to watch it wither slowly and be constantly reminded of better days. The poem consists of three stanzas with alternate rhymes.  Like the surrounding poems, it is written in regular iambic pentameter.110

The first stanza sets the scene and describes the relationship between the speaker and the flower. The good care the flower receives is brought out in several ways. Two of the rhyme words, “hege” (to tend) and “pflege” (care, nurture), the latter even with the preceding adjective “guten” (good), mention it directly. The flower has the best place in the room, namely the window. It grows in a grey piece of porcelain or ceramic where it is kept safe from frost. The alliteration “Verwahrt vorm froste” (v. 2) emphasises the protection its container offers. Oddly, the flower grows in a shard, whose broken state and grey colour suggest the care it receives is not as good as the speaker claims. Perhaps, he has nothing else to put the flower into. It appears to be the only beautiful item in the seemingly empty room, and nothing can take the speaker’s mind of it. Lentz (2007) points out that it is possible to read “Scherbe” as an old term for “earthen flower pot”. According to him, the enclosed flower, as topos of captivity, marks the border between inside and outside. Its death is a sign for the incompatibility of the beauty of nature and the beauty of art.111

The speaker has high expectations of the flower. The care is not just for the flower’s benefit but for his own pleasure (“die ich mir am fenster hege”, v. 1). Hanging its head and appearing to be sick, the flower grieves him instead of rewarding him for his care. According to Lentz, death is chosen by the flower in an act of defiance as it has become a “shard” itself, having been taken from its natural surroundings. He further explains that the image of death is overlaid by a religious context that can be understood as self-fashioning of the poet. The flower hangs its head as if slowly dying like Jesus on the cross.112

The speaker does not want to be reminded of the flower’s former glory and decides to break it. The assonance “frühern blühenden” (v. 5) conveys its former beauty. The speaker seems to be profoundly affected by the change in the flower and wants to eradicate (“merzen”, v. 6) all traces of it from his memory. Hence, he takes a sharp tool, probably a knife, to break it. The exaggeration “scharfe waffen” (sharp-edged weapons) makes his sudden action seem even more dramatic. According to Lentz, he wants the ugliness to superimpose the memory of the flower’s beauty. Thus, the speaker tries to take control and prevail over his object of desire. Lentz elaborates further that this act of desperation is also a subtle kind of suicide of the speaker and the poet respectively, as the flower is also a symbol for poetry.113

The personification of the flower in the fourth and eighth verse, where its sickness is stressed by the alliteration “blasse blume”, confirms that the poem is about more than a flower. The “you” that is addressed in Waller im Schnee, the companion the speaker found in the second poem, is Ida Coblenz.114 “Die blume die ich mir am fenster hege” mirrors their separation. George ended their friendship immediately when he learned about her relationship with the poet Richard Dehmel.115 As reported by Karlauf, the radical way of separating from people that he once held dear, was a major trait of George’s character.116

The last stanza begins with a rhetorical question. The speaker sees no point in keeping the flower if it only causes him sorrow. His strong wish for the flower to disappear from the window is emphasised by the alliteration “vom fenster […] verschwände” (v. 10) that contrasts the similar alliteration of the second verse. Previously, the flower was cared for in the window and protected against frost. Now, the speaker wants it to be gone from the window.117 Some time passes between the tenth and eleventh verse, and the speaker seems to have thrown away the flower. Now, he has nothing left. His empty eyes show a lack of emotions. He seems not to be bothered by what he did. However, he raises his empty hands, perhaps in a gesture of remorse or pleading. The repetition of the adjective “leer” (empty) underlines the inner and outer emptiness.

5d.

The ninth (and second to last) poem from Waller im Schnee elaborates on the speaker’s farewell from his companion. Spring is approaching, and the speaker will go on without the other. The poem consists of two stanzas, each containing four verses in enclosed rhymes that might represent a last embrace of the two characters. Like in the previous poems, the regular iambic pentameter might mirror the pilgrim’s steps.

The impending arrival of spring caused the other’s spell to break (“Dein zauber brach”, v. 1) like the ice of a pond breaks in the blue breezes (“blaue flüge”,125 v. 1) of spring. The speaker feels suddenly free from her influence and becomes now completely aware that they are not kindred souls as previously hoped. The representation of spring as blue breezes of air is not a new idea.126 Here, however, the religious connotations of the colour blue127 are very apparent, as the breezes blow “von grabesgrünen und von sichrem heile” (from green plants growing on graves and from certain salvation, v. 2).  At first glance, this image seems to be ambiguous, as it contains allusions to both death and hope. Several interpretations seem possible. The blue spring air might cause the death of winter (and of the speaker’s companion, who is so much like winter, according to the description in the fourth poem of the cycle, “Ich darf nicht dankend”), while it brings salvation for the speaker. In this reading, the emphasis lies on the differences between the two characters and the speaker’s need for renewal. Or, the image might depict the journey of life the speaker will continue that ultimately leads to death and salvation. It is, however, also possible to understand the verse in a solely positive way. The warm breezes of spring turn everything green that was previously frozen and dead, even the plants that grow on top of graves. Thus, both parts of the image convey the idea of resurrection, something that is impossible for the speaker to experience if he does not leave the harshness of winter.

He is in a hurry to leave his companion and to move on. The monosyllabicity of the third verse underlines his haste. He wants to pray shortly in front of the other “wie vor dem grossen schmerze” (v. 4). The conjunction “wie” could be read as either “like” or “and”. Neither translation changes the sentence much, but in both cases, the speaker’s actions seem odd. Because of the preposition “vor” (in front of, before), he appears to address the companion (and the sorrow) in his prayer instead of some deity. One could argue that this last prayer is a gesture of farewell, with which the speaker leaves both his companion and his sorrow and pessimism behind. Morwitz (1969), on the other hand, believes that with this prayer, the speaker tries to tear his companion away from the harshness and sorrow of winter towards a new hope, which she is not able to share. To preserve himself and his art, he has to part with her.128

In the second stanza, he tells her that she must resign herself to a quick farewell as spring is approaching fast. The speed of the arrival of spring is conveyed through two interwoven images: The ice on the pond burst and is compared to hard bark, which immediately leads to the next image of growing buds. The poem ends with the speaker telling the other he is not allowed to take her with him to spring. He still seems to feel attached to her, yet higher forces, the differences between them, do not permit a continuation of their relationship.

 1.

The season poems that form the first part of Das Jahr der Seele and include Waller im Schnee are followed by the collection Überschriften und Widmungen (Titles and Dedications). At its centre is a group of ten poems that, according to its heading Erinnerungen an einige Abende innerer Geselligkeit, deals with “memories of several evenings of inner conviviality”. When three of these poems were published in George’s magazine Blätter für die Kunst in August 1894, the title (“Drei Gedichte / I.C., Einer Freundin zur erinnerung an einige abende innerer geselligkeit”) contained a dedication to George’s friend and muse Ida Coblenz.136 Originally, George intended to dedicate the entire volume to her, but he changed his mind and removed all references to her after he ended their friendship because of her relationship with the poet Richard Dehmel.137

“Erwachen aus dem tiefsten traumes-schoosse” is the fourth of five “Nachtwachen” (“Vigils”) that according to the font size in the list of contents belong to Erinnerungen. Their content, however, differs from the rest of the group and does not seem to relate to Ida Coblenz. Morwitz (1969) could not determine to whom these five poems refer. The first of them describes the addressee as a young woman with blond hair. Morwitz speculates that the poems mirror George’s experiences with a woman in France or Belgia, as implied by the original French version.138 According to Schultz (2005), “[…] the memory of youth – whether the poet’s own or reincarnated in a young lover – is the theme of […] “Nachtwachen” (Vigils).”139 In “Erwachen aus dem tiefsten traumes-schoosse”, the speaker meditates over a sleeping young woman.

At first glance, the whole poem, which is written in iambic pentameter with feminine endings, seems to consist of fragments of thoughts and actions. Due to George's use of lower case letters, some phrases appear grammatically ambiguous and are therefore difficult to understand. Existing translations are rather free and diverge from each other.

The first and the last verse appear to be separated from the speaker’s actions and words in the rest of the poem. In the first verse, either the speaker or the addressee awakes from the “deepest womb of dreams”. Due to the colon at the end, the first line seems like the title of the poem, which is just headed with the number IV. The verse could summarise or give the context for what is about to happen. It is not uncommon for someone to awake from deep dreams, either in the sense of deep sleep or captivating dreams. However, the striking connection with the image of the female womb (“Schoß”), which is enhanced by the alliteration “tiefsten traumes-schoosse”, creates connotations of being born or reborn. The verse seems to express that, on the one hand, the person who woke up became alive and conscious and that nothing before the awakening mattered. On the other hand, a feeling of security and comfort associated with the womb is lost at that moment.

In the second verse, the actual plot starts. The speaker is affected by his long contemplation of the other person. The word “betroffen” is slightly ambiguous, as it can be understood both as the past participle of the neutral verb “betreffen” (to concern) or, more likely, as a more negative adjective meaning “shocked”, “taken aback” or “moved by something sad”. George’s use of the noun “spiegelung” (mirroring) to describe the speaker’s contemplation of the other person's face suggests that the speaker looks at himself or at least strongly identifies with the other person. Morwitz (1969) infers that, until now, the speaker has viewed the woman only as a mirror of himself without recognising her true self.140 Upset by this realisation, he bends down towards her lips, which are turning pale (v.3).141 The woman’s lower, recumbent position and pale lips imply that she is either asleep, sick or dead.

The fourth and fifth verse are again taken out of the plot. The speaker addresses someone or something, probably the other person's lips, in an almost incantatory way. He tells them they should only tolerate those full of compassion. The verb “ertragen” has overtones of putting up with or enduring something unpleasant, irritating or agonising. This wording appears strange in the context of “mitleidgroße”, a neologism that is even stronger than “mitleidsvolle” as it implies greatness besides compassion.142

The direct speech continues in the fifth verse, where the speaker asks the other’s lips to be open out of gratefulness to those devoted to them. Here, the placement of the adverb “nur” (only) seems unusual. Instead of relating to “den euch geweihten” (those devoted to you), it precedes “aus dank” (out of gratefulness). The position of the adverb implies that gratefulness should be the only reason for the other to react. The word “geweiht” has religious connotations as it not only means “devoted” or “dedicated” but also “holy” or “sacred”. One could argue that the fourth and fifth verse hint at some kind of test the speaker has to pass as he asks the lips to be open only to those who are worthy.

In the sixth to eighth verse, the plot continues. The speaker appears to be worthy, as the reaction he gets exceeds his highest hopes. The three verses are apparently a continuation of the third verse but are rather difficult to understand in detail due to George's use of lower case letters and his sparse use of punctuation. Several interpretations seem possible at first, but only one fits into the context of the third verse.143 “Berührten” must be a noun (the ones that are touched) and a synonym for the lips of the other person. They are giving “the” answer in fervour, against the speaker's highest hopes. The alliteration “höchstes hoffen” underlines how unimaginable this outcome was for the speaker, something that is also emphasised by the speaker’s characterisation as “dem noch zweifelnden” (the one still doubting) in the eighth verse. According to Morwitz, the speaker judges himself to be unworthy of the woman because he previously only saw himself in her. She, however, does not accept this judgement, and in a silent answer, her lips meet his.144

The speaker and the other person, his mirroring image, seem to exchange places in the middle of the poem. While the other's lips were pale, and as one might imagine cold, in the beginning, they now answer with heat to the speaker. In addition, the speaker's senses fail suddenly (v.9) as a reaction of the unexpectedness of the other's answer. A reversal of roles is also conveyed in the last verse which speaks of the trickle of blissful minutes and thus hints at death. Hence, it is the opposite of the first verse, which conveys the idea of birth.

2.

“Kunfttag I” opens the cycle Maximin, the centrepiece of Der siebente Ring (The Seventh Ring), which was published in 1907. The number seven appears to be a primary structuring principle of the whole volume. Unlike previous poetry collections like Das Jahr der Seele, which consists of three parts, Der siebente Ring contains seven cycles, and the number of poems and pages of each cycle is a multiple of seven.155 According to Morwitz (1969), the title alludes to tree rings, the concentric circles in the cross section of a tree trunk whose number indicates the tree’s age.156

In February 1902, George met Maximilian Kronberger, a handsome schoolboy and aspiring poet, who died of meningitis a little over two years later.157 "For George, Maximin would come to represent all that was beautiful, or even divine, on earth. […] Der siebente Ring […] was the fruit of “das Maximin-Erlebnis,” and intended to commemorate it."158 A memorial book with poems by George, which were later printed at the centre of Der Siebente Ring, and works by some of his followers and Kronberger himself was published already in 1906.159 The “Maximin-Erlebnis” had an immense impact on George and his work. “Praise of Maximin is perhaps the primary theme in George’s late work: from Der Siebente Ring, where praise of Maximin occupies the center of the work, through the Stern des Bundes, wholly devoted to the Maximin-cult, to Das neue Reich, where the memory of the Bavarian youth persists in numerous poems. […] Maximin […] assumes the place in George’s work that Beatrice occupies in Dante’s […]”160 George’s experience with Maximin also marks the moment when the “George Circle” first defined itself as centred around George, the Master.161

Although George stylised the “Maximin-Erlebnis” in these poems, their subject is obviously the poet himself. “Kunfttag I” is one of the three “advent” poems that describe his feelings before and after Maximin’s arrival in retrospect.162 It consists of twelve hexasyllabic, iambic verses without end rhymes. The simple form might convey his humbleness towards Maximin, to whom he ascribes divine power, or the creative crisis from which Maximin redeemed him. The word “Kunfttag” does not exist as such in the German language. The first part, “Kunft”, derives from “kommen” (to come). It is also part of the German word for future (“Zukunft”, literally “that which comes towards somebody”). Thus it is easy to mistranslate “Kunfttag” as “Future Day”. The poem title is, in fact, George’s translation of the term “advent”163 and underlines the messianic qualities he attributes to Maximin.

The first verse describes how others perceive Maximin: To some, he is a child, to others a friend. At first glance, it also seems possible to read the line as “To him, the friend, you are a child”. Although this interpretation would conform to other people's perception of the schoolboy Kronberger, the repetition of “dem” implies an antithesis (of “the one” and “the other” seeing Maximin as “child” and “friend” respectively) rather than the emphasis on another person, especially since the rest of the poem deals with nothing but Maximin and the speaker's relation to him. In contrast to other people, the speaker recognises a god in Maximin. The almost parallel structure of the first two verses underlines the difference between the speaker and the others: “Dem” and “Ich” and “du” and “dir” have similar positions in each verse. However, the first verse is inverted with “dem” being the object of the sentence, implying passivity, while the speaker sees or recognises actively in the second verse. Although it is possible to read the first verse as iambic trimeter like the rest of the poem, the repetition of the demonstrative pronoun “dem” invites for the freer reading: –˘˘– | – –. Having started this way, the reader might then be inclined to stress corresponding syllables in the second verse. Thus, the reader would emphasise both “ich”, highlighting the poet’s exclusive position, and “den”, making Maximin not just a god, but “the god governing the poet’s destiny”.164 The poet seems to be overcome by strong emotions when he “schauernd” (v.3, tremblingly) recognises Maximin as his god and directs his devotion to him (v.4). The noun “Andacht” is an interesting choice, as it not only means devotions but also derives from “to think of something or someone”. It seems to imply that the speaker does not ask his newfound god for anything.

The second stanza elaborates on the poet’s situation before Maximin's arrival. His redeemer came on the last possible day, when he, sick of waiting and tired of prayer, got lost in the darkness of the night. The parallelism of the sixth and seventh verse with the repetition of “da ich” emphasises the long duration of the poet’s suffering. Maximin came first when there was no more hope. Metzger (2005) argues that the Maximin-poems “celebrate Maximin chiefly as George’s personal redeemer from the solitude of his despair over the tragic situation of humanity”.165 The second stanza ends with a colon, leading to a more detailed description about how Maximin’s arrival was revealed to the speaker.

The missing verb in the ninth verse generates a feeling of breathlessness and emphasises the pronoun “Du” (you) that opens both the second and the third stanza. The often-repeated initial letter “d” gives the poet’s words an adjuring quality. Because of the missing verb, the ninth verse is difficult to understand, but one can assume it means “You became known to me” or “You were revealed to me”. George employs two metaphors in the third stanza to convey the life-changing effect Maximin had on him, the first of which continues the idea of getting lost in the night from the second stanza. Maximin is celebrated as the bringer of light in the darkness (v. 10). The verb “floss” (flowed) seems to indicate that George mixes two images here as the noun “Strahl” can refer to both a beam of light and a jet of water. The choice of the second image is interesting as well. Although the metaphor of Maximin as the bringer of fertility is consistent with his divine powers, the idea that steps can cause seeds to blossom seems rather unusual. Following Martus' (2007) line of thought, one might assume that both metaphors hint at terms of poetry.166 Maximin becomes the God of poetry for George. He is revealed as metrical foot and flow of melody.   

3.

“Trauer I” is like the previous poem taken from Maximin in Der siebente Ring. It is the seventh of the twenty-one poems in the cycle, and the first of three with the title “Trauer” (Mourning). It consists of three stanzas of four lines in amphibrachic trimeter. After Maximin’s death, the speaker begs him to answer his call and expresses the wish to have died in his place. Maximin tells him to continue his life on earth and to praise the miracle of Maximin’s existence.

The poem starts with the speaker’s plea to Maximin to wait, so he could confess to him something he did not manage to tell him when he was still alive. The request to wait suggests that Maximin has the divine power to grant the speaker’s wish and listen to him even though he is dead. As the speaker declares in the second verse, he does not want to live without him. Because of the prefix “er-”, the verb “erbeten” carries the connotation of creation besides meaning to beg or to pray for something. The speaker, who was the only one capable of perceiving Maximin as a God in “Kunfttag I”, does not just ask for Maximin, but appears almost to try to conjure his spirit. The verb “begehre” (desire), on the other hand, adds an erotic quality to his declaration. The third and fourth verse state the speaker's reasons for wanting to join Maximin in death: Living without him is a sin; dying for or instead of him would be an honour. The parallelism of the two verses, the alliteration “Der tag […]/Der tod” and the contrast of “sünde” (sin) and “ehre” (honour) highlight the speaker’s sentiment that life without Maximin would be meaningless. The comparison to sin seems to imply guilt. The speaker would be sinning if he did continue with his normal life. According to Morwitz (1969), “sünde” refers here to uselessly spent time, whereas “ehre” means elevation in the context of this poem.176 The suddenly heavy metre in the fourth verse adds to the sombre atmosphere of the stanza as it underlines the word “tod” (death).

In the second stanza, the speaker's wish to take Maximin’s place becomes even more apparent. “Die Finstren” (the dark ones) and “die traurige stufe” (the sad step) hint at an underworld where the souls of the deceased are trapped. The speaker states if someone was selected to go there, he, the speaker, would take that sad step himself. It is noteworthy that he does not address Maximin directly anymore, but speaks just impersonally of “einen” (one/someone). The capitalisation of the pronoun “ich” (I) emphasises his urgency and the conviction that he should be the one to die. However, his wish is not granted. In the seventh verse, the personified night throws him down on the grass and does not allow him to take that step, so he begs even more desperately than before to receive an answer from Maximin. The ellipsis at the end of the eighth verse indicates that he is too distraught to say any more.

Due to the direct speech and the enclosed rhyme, the last stanza stands out from the rest of the poem. At first glance, two different readings seem possible. For one, the stanza could be the speaker’s pleading call mentioned in the eighth verse. In this case, the ellipsis would be just a moment for him to collect himself before he begs for a final time. The contrast between the ninth and tenth verse with the opposites “Du and mich”, “himmel" and “grund” would, in this case, depict the central plea of the whole poem, the wish to swap places. The alliteration “grund als gesunder” would underline once again the speaker’s urgency. While he would ascend to heaven, Maximin would lift from the ground as well, but only to continue living on earth. With the exchange of places, also the roles of the two would be swapped. In this reading, the speaker asks Maximin to witness and praise his miracle in the last two verses. Now, he would be the one with the divine power to resurrect Maximin, who would be waiting (“und harre”) on earth.

However, this reading would be inconsistent with the previously established parameters of the relationship between the speaker and Maximin. Morwitz argues for a second and more likely reading, where the direct speech of the third stanza contains words that Maximin uttered or could have uttered while he was still alive.177 Instead of allowing him to take his place, Maximin asks the speaker to let him rise to heaven. The speaker should not despair over Maximin’s early death but stay alive to praise him. According to Morwitz, Maximin’s words are substantiated by his poem fragments insofar as they relate to an early death. Insofar as they deal with the poet’s duty to continue his life, they are likely based on conclusions the poet himself drew from their encounter.178

4.

Webern set the thirteenth of George’s twenty-one poems in Gezeiten (Tides) from Der siebente Ring as the fourth of his Vier Lieder. According to a letter Melchior Lechter sent to George in May 1907, the cycle Gezeiten was originally termed “Halljahr”,193 a reference to the biblical jubilee year, when property was returned to its owners, slaves were freed and the land was supposed to lie fallow.194 The title “Gezeiten” is mentioned in the eighteenth poem, “Nun lass mich rufen”, where it is used as a synonym for seasons. Metzger writes about the cycle: “[…] “Gezeiten” (Tides), celebrates the exaltations and sorrows of love.”195 According to him, it “expresses more spontaneously than ever before [George’s] impassioned joy over his friendships with younger men, subtle, intense fusions of spiritual and erotic energy.”196 Six of the cycle’s central poems, including “Das lockere saatgefilde”, were written after George's first encounter with Robert Boehringer in the spring of 1905 and elaborate on the first year of their friendship.197

The poem, like many by George, has no individual title. It consists of eight mostly iambic pentameters. Although George did not divide the poem into stanzas, its content and strict rhyme scheme imply a division into two parts: The first four verses depict a field in early spring that has been ploughed but not yet seeded. While the first part provides a view from the outside, the speaker takes the place of the field in the last four verses.

The first verse describes the loosened field as sick and thirsty. The personification of the field and the vivid images in the second to fourth verse enhance its suffering from the harsh winter and convey its craving for new life. Spring seems near as the changed metre at “lockere” (loose, v. 1) and “Lenzlichter” (spring lights, v. 3) hints at the impending freedom from the previous heavy frost. The field’s urgent craving for spring and rain is underlined by the enjambment that connects the second and third verse and accelerates the poem’s flow. Repetitions of the letter “l”, especially in the alliteration “lauern Lenzlicher”, the vowel “ü” (“fühlte”, “pflüge”, “stürme”) and the conjunction “und” (and) further increase the speed of the poem towards the fourth verse. While the field’s suffering from the “plough’s teeth” (v. 3) is required for the future growth of plants, it also had to endure unnecessary hardship in the form of storms that made it gasp (v. 4). Transferred to a person, the image of the thirsting field describes someone with an essential need and desire for something after previous bad experiences. According to Morwitz (1969), it portrays the poet himself, who hopes to gain new creative energy from his new friendship with Boehringer after the death of Maximin.198

The second part of the poem conveys the field's longing in direct speech. The image changes gradually from the craving for water to the yearning for a lover. In the fifth verse, the speaker asks the other to be the much-needed rain. Water in the form of both bath and drink would restore the field’s fertility. The change from request to ecstatic exclamations of admiration in the last three verses seems to indicate that the speaker’s craving is getting satisfied. In the sixth verse, the images start to get mixed. The flowery showers might still refer to rain. However, “schauern” can also mean “shiver”, indicating an emotional reaction or arousal of the lover, whose body becomes the focus of the speaker’s attention, moving from his chest to his hair and face. The listing of pleasant smells, a mild breath or breeze, crying or rain continues to convey the idea of spring, while simultaneously describing the lover’s appearance and behaviour. While the letter “l” was important in the first part, the letter “d” is often repeated in the second part as in the alliteration “Das duften deiner” (v. 7). Throughout the last three verses, variations of “dein” appear with increasing frequency, conveying the speaker’s growing ecstasy.

1.

Webern set five poems from George’s Der siebente Ring as his Opus 3. According to Metzger (2005), Lieder, the sixth cycle of the volume, “retreat[s] from emotional intensity to more remote, legendary worlds of artistry.”204 Metzger adds, “While many of the “Lieder” possess delicate, lyrical charm, others, especially towards the close, are more portentous and epic, ballads at best.”205 Webern chose the first five of six poems that constitute the cycle’s first subset, titled “Lieder I-VI”. These six poems were likely written in 1892/93 and probably relate to George’s friendship with Ida Coblenz.206 Structural similarities to “Sprich nicht immer”, whose complicated rhyme scheme and short verses are unique in the context of Das Buch der hängenden Gärten, make a connection with that time plausible.207 According to Morwitz (1969), the six poems express different feelings towards various people indirectly through the portrayal of landscapes.208

The first Lied consists of nine verses of different length and metre. Although George did not divide the poem into stanzas, a division into four smaller units of meaning is possible. The first and the last part embrace the two rhyming couplets of the third to sixth verse. The first and eighth verse on the one hand and the second and seventh verse on the other hand end with identical rhymes that underline the connection between the first and the last part. Both parts convey the same content: The speaker has created this little song with the sole intention to move the addressee. His sincerity is expressed through the shortness and regularity of these five verses that contain four syllables each. The enjambments in both parts emphasise the song’s mellifluousness. One can also sense a certain naivety in these simple lines and the opening verse “Dies ist ein lied” (This is a song). This statement appears rather obvious even though the reason for its utterance is the continuation “for you alone”. The phrasing of the eighth verse also highlights the speaker’s naivety as the expression “möcht es” (may it) sounds like a childish prayer.

The middle part further elaborates on the song by telling first what it is about (vv. 3, 4) and then where and when it can be heard (vv. 5, 6). “Kindischem wähnen” (v. 3) implies naïve yearning or childish beliefs of an adult about a future that might not come to pass. The pious tears in the fourth verse might be a sign of strong emotion. They seem to be slightly exaggerated in the context of this simple poem. Here, the paradox of the song describing itself and therefore not managing to do so is perhaps most apparent. According to the fifth verse, the song wafts, maybe on a warm breeze, through a garden in the morning. One can imagine that everything has just awakened and is clean from the dew. Besides innocence and purity, the image also conveys a certain urgency. The addressee and his feelings for him or her are so important that the speaker wants to sing his song first in the morning. In the sixth verse, the song is described as gently buoyant, something which is also conveyed by the longer words of the middle section. Fewer primary stresses make the words appear more exhilarated, and the vowel successions from [ɔ] to [ɪ] and from [a] to [ɪ] on the stressed syllables in the fifth and sixth verse underline the cheerful atmosphere. In addition, the shortening of the second verse of the rhyming couplet makes it appear like an echo or as if someone was humming a melody and cut off parts of it the second time. Morwitz remarks on how natural the verses sound despite the daring rhyme of “Klingt es” and “leichtbeschwingtes”.209

The poem as a whole seems to express the emotions of someone who has developed a strong affection for someone else. He does not understand what he feels or knows what the other feels, yet enjoys it and tries to share it.

2.

The second Lied from George’s Der siebente Ring describes a transformation of the speaker’s feelings from the elusiveness of budding love at first sight to deep yearning. It consists of twelve short verses of only four or five syllables each and can be divided into three parts.

According to Morwitz (1969), the first part (vv. 1-5) points to a past time in which the youthful speaker viewed all questions as dreams and all answers as smiles.215 The part consists of two sentences that describe the speaker’s and the addressee’s behaviour respectively. Enjambments connect the verses of each sentence. As stated in the first sentence (vv. 1-3), the speaker's question was only a dream or a reverie in the wind's weaving. The speaker's words are perceived as just a fantasy as they were probably soft and hesitantly spoken and could not be heard in the wind. The repeated voiced fricative [v] in the alliteration “windes-weben / War” conveys the noise of the wind. Through its weaving, the wind is almost personified and becomes a threat to the speaker’s new, intangible feelings. The vowels of the first verse are very light. They get darker in the second verse, perhaps to show a hint of resignation or sadness at the realisation of a missed opportunity. The second sentence (vv. 4-5) describes the other's answer, which does not appear to be real either as he or she only smiles at the speaker. Question and answer are connected through the repetition of the adverb “nur” in the third and fourth verse. The rhyme of the first and fifth verse could be seen as an embracing gesture that connects question and answer, speaker and addressee.

The second part consists of the two central verses (6-7). As they constitute the only rhyming couplet and are placed exactly in the middle of the poem, they emphasise the transformation of the speaker’s feelings. Reflecting on the past, he reaches a point of realisation, where the memory of what happened in the first part transforms into the image of a sudden glow that illuminates a rainy spring night.216 The speaker has become aware of the other or his feelings for him or her as a light in an uncomfortable darkness, whose inhospitality is emphasised by the alliteration “nasser nacht”. The verb “entfacht” (ignited, kindled) suggests that “glanz” (shine, glow) is not just a light but the beginning of a fire that hints at the speaker’s growing passionate emotions. Because of the rain, the fire’s existence might come as a surprise to the speaker.

The last part (vv. 8-12) elaborates on how the realisation of his feelings has changed the speaker in the present. While the innocent budding love of the past was fulfilment in itself, now, at a later stage, which is compared to May, love has become a never-ending longing to be close to the beloved.217 As implied by the eighth verse, nothing can stop spring. May is coming, and everything is going to flower, including the speaker’s feelings. As they become tangible, they develop into more than just “träumerei”, the rhyme to this verse. The repetition of “nun” in the eighth and ninth verse underlines the intensity of the emotions. It is noteworthy that the speaker’s longing is directed at the other’s outer appearance, his or her eyes and hair (v. 10). The eleventh verse implies that the speaker does not expect the other to return his feelings. Possibly, he might not even see the other again. Therefore, he expects his longing to continue forever with an intensity that is conveyed through the changed vowel colour in the last verse, which almost exclusively consists of stretched [eː]-sounds.

3.

Like the previous poem, the third Lied from Der siebente Ring expresses the emotions of a person symbolically through a spring landscape. However, as Morwitz (1969) argues, the described scene hints at an earlier time than May, which was mentioned in the second Lied. Morwitz infers that George deliberately avoided a chronological order of the poems.221

The third Lied consists of twelve mostly iambic verses. With few exceptions, each of them contains four syllables. The poem describes nature at the very beginning of spring. It is so early that only hazels bloom next to a brook (vv. 1-3). It is noteworthy that George did not use the more common word “Rand” to refer to the bank of the small stream. Instead, he used the word “Ranft” (v. 1), a related, regional term for the crusty end of a bread loaf. The letter “f” adds a certain harshness and underlines that spring has not quite transformed the barren winter landscape. According to Gomringer (1995), the word indicates a ragged bank that is situated on the opposite side of the flat inner bank of a bending stream.222 In contrast to the harsh consonants, the light, buoyant rhythm of the second verse with the inserted dactyl illustrates the blooming of the hazels. The contrasting elements of the changing landscape are also conveyed through the vowel colours. While the harshness of winter with the cold brook is mirrored in the open [a]-sounds of the first verse, the blooming is illustrated by the lighter vowels [iː], [ɪ] and [yː] in the second and third verse and emphasised by the repetition of “die”.

The fourth and fifth verse address another sense. A bird can be heard in a cool meadow. Although this pleasant image is another sign of the approaching spring, it also illustrates that winter has not quite ended yet, as the bird only whistles but does not sing. Morwitz suggests it belongs to the family Charadriidae.223 The repeated fricatives of “vogel pfeift” mirror the bird’s whistling sounds. It is noteworthy that only one bird is mentioned. As Gomringer points out, up to the fifth verse, eye, ear and skin perception have mostly registered sensations that suggest early days, loneliness and coldness.224

This changes in the next sentence (vv. 6-8), when a sudden gleam of light brushes the speaker and his companion and gently warms them. For the first time in the poem, the speaker mentions a “we”. Unlike the previous Lieder, this one seems to depict a relationship that, albeit being in its very early stages, might turn out not be one-sided. In the first part of the sentence, positive and tender words like “streift” (brushes), “erwärmt” (warms) and “sanft” (gently) are used to convey the young love. However, the gleam of the light does not last. It “zuckt” (quivers) and “bleicht” (pales) and disappears again.

The description of nature continues with harsh, negative images in the two following verses. The field is fallow and the tree leafless. According to Gomringer, these are outer images of the speaker’s inner state.225 However, like the aspects of winter that were present in the descriptions of the beginning, small hints of spring are hidden in the ninth and tenth verse. The field is fallow, but that might also mean it will soon be ready for new seeds. The tree’s state of “noch” (still) being grey suggests it will not stay like this forever.

The last two verses express the speaker’s hope that the personified spring will bless their relationship. Perhaps spring might strew flowers after them in a gesture that Gomringer calls “Jugendstilgebärde”.226 The eleventh verse contains an extra syllable and is the only trochaic verse. The falling gesture, which continues into the last verse as a result of the enjambment, mirrors the image of strewing flowers. However, as the adverb “vielleicht” indicates, nothing is sure as winter and spring overlap and coexist in balance. This balance is mirrored in the symmetry of the poem. The metre is stable apart from the beginning (v. 2) and the end (v. 11). The rhymes, on the other hand, intertwine without any symmetry, and yet they are completely balanced as six rhyming pairs are spread over twelve verses.

The two seasons might be a metaphor for the two lovers’ developing feelings. They have just felt a little gleam of light, perhaps an idea of affection, but are unsure if anything will bloom out of it. The harshness is predominant in the poem’s images as well as in its sounds, like in the sharp [ts] that pervades the poem (“einzigen”, “zuckt”, “lenz”) or the hard consonant combinations that are used where the mood becomes desolate (brach, grau).227

4.

The fourth Lied from Der siebente Ring describes a later time in spring than the two previous poems. Two lovers enjoy the cherry blossom and the smell of the grass together while the longed-for summer is still far away.

The twelve verses of the poem are written in iambic dimeter. The feminine endings of the sixth and twelfth verse divide the poem into two halves of equal length and metre. The rhyme scheme, on the other hand, indicates a division into three parts, as one quatrain of enclosed rhyme is followed by two quatrains with garbled rhymes. Both ways of dividing the poem formally are consistent with its content. The first six verses describe how the other person comes to watch and enjoy the cherry blossom together with the speaker while the second half elaborates on the state of nature at that moment. However, a division into three parts is possible as well.

The first quatrain introduces the situation. In the early morning, the other steps towards the speaker to look at the cherry blossom with him. Unlike in the previous poem, where the speaker addressed them as “we”, here, he distinguishes between “du” (v. 2) and “mir” (v. 4). Nevertheless, their relationship seems closer and less one-sided than those described in the previous Lieder, as the enclosed rhyme and the alliteration “Mit mir” (v. 4) underlines. The two personal pronouns “du” and “mir” take parallel places in the second and fourth verse. The other steps forth as if he or she was hidden or standing somewhere behind the speaker. Now, the beloved actively seeks out a place next to the speaker. Since all verses end with stressed syllables the iambic flow throughout the quatrain is never disrupted. It conveys the harmonic mood that characterises the relationship.

The fifth and sixth verse, which continue the first sentence of the poem, address another sense by adding the smell of grass. The word “rasenbeetes” (v. 6), a composite of “Rasen” (grass/lawn) and “Beet” (flower bed) is unusual. Whereas the cherry tree symbolises love, eroticism and fertility,231 the meaning of the grass bed is less obvious. While the fact that the bed contains grass instead of flowers highlights how far summer is still away, other aspects of the word, like the relatedness of the nouns “Beet” and “Bett” (bed), underline how inviting nature has already become. The pleasant smell of the grass is one of the reasons the speaker’s companion steps beside him.

The seventh verse describes how dust or pollen flies everywhere. The alliteration “Fern fliegt” illustrates its movement in the wind. The lovers’ gazes seem to follow this movement as the ellipsis at the end of the verse indicates. The adverb “fern” can mean both “into the distance” and “distant”. Morwitz (1969) interprets it in the latter sense and argues that the faraway “Staub” hints at the distance of summer and the unpredictability of its arrival.232 Alliterations at the beginning of four consecutive verses seem to create a separate quatrain that starts in the seventh verse. This quatrain, which contains the most negative images of the poem, stands out formally due to the enclosing rhyme (“staub”/ “laub”) and the repetition of [f] in its outer verses.

Although the eighth verse could continue the previous sentence, grammatically it belongs to the last part of the poem, which emphasises how far away summer is. Apart from the cherry flowers, nothing has grown yet. Neither fruits nor leaves have fully developed. However, there is hope as a warm wind blows from the south (v. 12).

Though George avoided a chronological order of the Lieder, this poem seems to be a continuation of the third Lied. The relationship between the speaker and his beloved, which is again represented by seasons and nature, has grown. Although there are no fruits on the trees yet, spring has finally come, and the two people appear closer together than before.

5.

The fifth Lied from Der siebente Ring is set in winter. Like the previous poem, it consists of twelve verses in iambic dimeter. It describes a tree that raises its leafless branches and waits for spring. The similarity of the tree’s pose and the human gesture of stretching out one’s arms in longing holds the poem together.237

It can be divided into four parts of equal length. The first tercet describes the tree’s unpleasant situation. The winter mist takes away all light and warmth and causes it to feel cold. The wording “frierend leben” (v. 3) conveys the depth of this feeling that seems to imperil the tree’s very existence.

The first tercet is followed by the speaker’s request, addressed either to the reader or to the speaker’s companion, to let his or her dream “rise” in front of the tree. As both tercets have a similar rhyme scheme and metre, they obviously belong together and even seem to be connected as cause and effect. Since the tree is miserable in winter, the addressee should empathise with it and see the similarities between the tree’s gesture of longing for spring and the longing for a dream to come true.

The second half of the poem begins with another description of the tree, which rephrases the first verse in a way that attributes further human characteristics to it. This description is followed by the appeal to bestow the previously mentioned favour often on the tree. The dash at the end of the seventh verse seems to indicate another relationship of cause and effect. Compared to the first part of the poem, the two elements take much less space and in this way convey the speaker’s growing urgency.

The final triplet gives the reason for the speaker’s requests. Despite grieving and being covered in ice, the tree should be supported in its hope for spring. Both the tenth and eleventh verse convey the speaker's urgency again as they accumulate negative aspects of the tree's current situation that are further emphasised by the parallelism of the clauses, before resolving into the final verse.

Like the other Lieder that describe different kinds of relationships between two people through images of nature and seasons, also this poem can be understood symbolically. In contrast to the previous poems, here, the speaker does not seem to be a part of the landscape he describes. Despite addressing someone else, he never alludes to himself. For this reason, the tree becomes the protagonist of the poem. It might stand for a lonely and bitter person, perhaps someone with a recent unsuccessful relationship, who needs the support of another person to break the ice and overcome the bitterness. The upward movements throughout the poem convey a longing for companionship and better times. 

1.

“Eingang” opens the cycle Traumdunkel (Darkness of Dream), the fifth part of George’s Der siebente Ring, which counterbalances the growing emotional intensity that characterises the book up to the Maximin-cycle by sinking into the lingering darkness of dreams.241 The cycle consists of fourteen poems and was written between the spring of 1902 and the end of 1905, but mostly after Maximilian Kronberger’s death in April 1904. The heading “Traumdunkel” was first used as the title of a poem in autumn 1899.242

“Eingang” was written in November 1905.243 The title is ambiguous as it can mean both entrance, doorway or access and introit or introduction. In the context of this poem, several of these translations seem plausible: “Eingang” is the introduction to the cycle in which the poet enters and gives the reader access to a new world of dreams. The poem consists of twelve verses in three stanzas with enclosed rhymes. Addressing various senses, the three stanzas describe different features of a rich and vivid landscape. The regular change of dactylic and trochaic metre gives the poem an incantatory tone.

It starts with a farewell to an old world which the speaker leaves to enter the new world of dreams. He wants to leave for a long time as the alliteration “lang lebewohl” underlines. The old world is called “Welt der gestalten”, an ambiguous phrase that could mean world of shapes, forms, figures, guises or characters. Here, the word “Gestalt” refers, most likely, to physical objects and indicates that the speaker leaves the outer, corporeal world behind to enter the soul landscape of his dreams. The phrase could also refer to a world of poetic characters that might stand for a form of poetry which is just about artificial outer appearances. “Eingang” might, therefore, be the introduction to a new era of poetry.

In the second verse, the speaker addresses the forest in front of him and asks it to open for him, conveying the impression that he has the knowledge or power to shape the landscape according to his will. The image of the white tree trunks conveys two different aspects of the scene. On the one hand, the word “schlohweiss” is often used in the context of old age (as in snow-shite hair) and makes the trees appear grand and dignified. The alliteration “schlohweisser stämme” underlines their venerability. On the other hand, the white trunks suggest a forest of birch trees, which symbolise life, spring or new beginnings.244

The two following verses enlarge upon the trees, which appear very impressive as they rise high into the air, where their crowns, stylised into comb shapes, carry leaves and fruits. The word “kämme”, which can also refer to the tops of mountains or hills, might not only describe the crown’s shape but could also further illustrate the trees’ size. The fruits and leaves are compared to carnelian, a red or red-brownish, iron-rich mineral that is used to make gemstones.245 The first words of the second and third verse, “öffne” (open) and “Oben” (high up) convey a sense of spaciousness and underline the grandeur of the scene. The image of the forest is very colourful as the scene includes white trunks, a blue sky and red-brown leaves and fruits that suggest the new world is not a world of spring but autumn.

The second stanza depicts the play of water in a marble fountain. The German word “male” refers to a large sculptural or architectonic structure that can be a monument, memorial or the like.246 According to Morwitz, the connection of “Mitten” and the preposition “beim” indicates that the fountain is placed in the middle of both the forest and the marble structure, and not next to it as most readers would understand it.247 The atmosphere of the second stanza is calm and peaceful. The fountain just starts (“beginnt”, v. 5). It is slow (“langsam”, v. 6) and the water flows gently (“sachte”, v. 7). The repeated murmuring consonants of the alliteration “Mitten […] marmornen male” convey the water’s soft gurgling and gentle flow. In the eighth verse, the otherwise regular rhythm is interrupted by a sudden trochaic beginning that illustrates the new image of the verse, which compares the water of the spring to grains falling one by one on a silver bowl. It is easy to associate this description with the idea of an hourglass that shows the slow trickle of time. Throughout the second stanza, different materials with different textures are mentioned: cold marble, slowly flowing water and single grains in a metal bowl. None of these materials are warm or soft, yet the scene appears pleasant due to the water’s “blumige spiele”. The adjective “blumig” means flowery, ornate, florid or floral and could refer to the water, its movement or the appearance of the marble fountain.

The third stanza further describes yet another aspect of the scene. It is early in the morning. Dawn creates clouds in the trees’ crowns (v. 10), and a shivering coolness forms a ring (v. 9), which Morwitz interprets as a magic belt of mist that protects the landscape from outside noises.248 This cold ring is mirrored phonetically by the two words surrounding “kühle”, which both start with the sibilant [ʃ] that conveys shivering or shuddering. The mood of the last stanza is magical and dreamlike and seems a little darker than previously. Those who live in the forest are spellbound (v. 11). There is no sound, just a foreboding silence, which makes it possible to hear the dream wing and the dream harp the speaker asks to sound at the end. His requests connect the last verse with the beginning of the poem and illustrate again that the landscape is shaped according to his wishes. The image of the dream harp establishes a connection to the cycle’s last poem, “Hehre Harfe”.249

2.

“Noch zwingt mich treue” is the seventh poem from the second part of Das Jahr der Seele, Waller im Schnee, where it precedes “Die blume die ich mir am fenster hege”. It elaborates on the speaker’s feelings towards his companion as he realises that their differences will ultimately cause their separation. Since he allowed the other to get closer to him, he feels obliged to remain faithful to her even though he realises that their relationship affects him negatively. He hesitates to part with her, because he admires the beauty and greatness of her suffering.253 The poem consists of two quatrains with alternate rhyme. The entrapment the speaker feels is illustrated by the strict iambic pentameter with feminine endings that stop the poem’s flow in every verse.

The first stanza begins by listing the speaker’s reasons for staying and watching over his companion. Although he addresses her directly, the poem appears to be contemplation and not an attempt at dialogue. Morwitz argues that the poet accounts for his behaviour to himself, possibly in his room in Bingen.254 It is also possible that his companion is asleep and that her condition allows him to utter his thoughts freely while he watches over her. It seems he would rather be somewhere else, but faithfulness compels (“zwingt”, v. 1) him to stay. The adverb “noch” (still, yet, v. 1) indicates this might change soon. “Deines duldens”, the only alliteration in the poem, which otherwise contains few embellishments, emphasises that it is not the other’s physical beauty, but the beauty of her sufferance that strengthens the speaker’s resolve. He even wants to make her grief his to truly share it and by doing so surmount their differences and be closer to her. He calls this his holy striving (“Mein heilig streben”, v. 3), which alludes to the pilgrimage mentioned in the cycle’s title. His wish implies a connection between the two that is much stronger than one could assume from the previous verses and illustrates the depth of the speaker’s faithfulness. In the first stanza, he only speaks in mono- and disyllabic words that convey the deep sorrow he feels.

The second stanza describes the future as he perceives it. The phrasing “ein […] anruf mich empfangen” (v. 5) implies the speaker wishes to give himself to and be welcomed by the other. However, he realises he will never get a warm reception from her and has to accept the bitter fate of what he found in winter (v. 8), i.e. his relationship to his companion that started in the winter landscape of the cycle’s second poem and is doomed to fail. The image of the last verse creates a strong contrast to the warm call the speaker hopes for at the beginning of the stanza. The repetition of the dark vowel “u” in the sixth and seventh verse, which mention the last hours of their union, underlines his sadness and resignation. Although he might still wish for the other to respond and not merely bear (“dulden”) his presence, there is nothing he can do apart from waiting “mit ergebnem bangen” (with devoted fear, v. 7).

3.

“Ja heil und dank dir die den segen brachte” is, like the previous poem, taken from Das Jahr der Seele. It is the third poem of the book’s first cycle, Nach der Lese (After the Harvest259). According to Morwitz (1969), the word “Lese” denotes the gathering of leftover grains after the harvest, the season, which ancient cultures saw as the beginning of the new year. It does not refer to the grape harvest, which, in George’s home town, takes place first at the end of October. Figuratively, the cycle is a collection of remnants of experiences after Das Buch der hängenden Gärten.260

The poem, which was also published in Blätter für die Kunst in February 1895,261 praises the arrival of a companion who manages to alleviate the speaker’s painful longing for the beloved of his dreams. Like the poem Webern set as Op. 4 No. 2, it consists of two quatrains in iambic pentameter. The enclosed rhyme in the second stanza is the only formal difference.

The shared [χ]-sound in the rhyme words of the first four verses phonetically demarcates the first from the second stanza. In the first stanza, the speaker addresses and praises another person. The address “dir die” (you who [female]) in the first verse and the comparison to “der Einen Fernen” (the one far away [female]) in the seventh verse indicate that this person is a woman. The poem starts with an ecstatic exclamation of praise and gratitude, which is emphasised by the exclamation mark, the affirmation “Ja” (yes) and the alliteration “dank dir die den”.  Given the poem’s setting in autumn, which is indicated by the cycle’s title, the speaker’s address of the other as “the one who brought blessing” evokes associations with a harvest prayer, which seems to elevate the addressee to the status of a goddess.

Enjambments connect the second to fourth verse, in which the speaker states that the expectation and anticipation of the other’s arrival slowly lulled a constant, loud throb during the previous weeks. At first glance, this strong heartbeat seems to convey his anxiousness about the oncoming winter or his longing for the addressee. He might be afraid of being lonely, but the anticipation of her arrival dampens his fear. The speaker’s relationship to the addressee is easy to misinterpret. A better understanding is only possible if one considers the cycle’s previous poem, “Ihr rufe junger jahre die befahlen”, in which the speaker looked for the beloved of his dreams but realised that he could not find her on earth. Now, it would suffice him, if another woman, who had previously shyly asked to be his companion, was once again drawn to him by the intensity of his longing. While he only felt a fleeting affection for her previously, he would now gladly accept her as his companion.262 The loud throb of the second verse, must, therefore, express a feeling of emptiness and constant longing for someone unreachable. It is only eased, not extinguished by the speaker’s new companion. According to Morwitz, the word “sachte” indicates her understanding silence.263 The speaker calls her “Teure”, an endearment that conveys his gratitude. The old-fashioned and slightly mannered phrasing “Mit der Erwartung deiner” makes it easy to misread the third verse as “with the anticipation of your preciousness”. However, the dashes around “Teure” and its capitalisation not only emphasise the word but reveal it to be a term of address. The fourth verse describes autumn with the oxymoron “glanzerfüllten sterbewochen” (dying weeks full of splendour). The image of the autumn landscape illustrates the speaker’s mixed feelings of resignation at never being able to find his true companion on the one hand and happiness at being in the addressee’s understanding presence on the other hand.

Despite being divided only by a comma, the fifth and the three last verses form separate sentences that structure the second stanza similarly to the first. The use of past, present and future tense in quick succession is noteworthy. The other came, they are embracing each other, and the speaker will learn soft words and praise the other. Their embrace, the poem’s only action taking place in the present, is mirrored in the enclosed rhyme of the stanza. The word “umschlungen” conveys intimacy and urgency. Unlike, for example, “umarmen”, the verb “umschlingen” implies the wish not to let go again. The speaker’s promise to learn soft words for the other (v. 6) suggests either that he does not know these words yet because he has never had a real companion before, or that they do not come naturally to him when he addresses her as she is not the beloved of his dreams. Nevertheless, he wants to please her and praise her as if she resembled “der Einen Fernen” (the one far away, v. 7). The capitalisation of these two words that refer to the beloved of his dreams emphasises how special and yet unreachable she is for the speaker. The use of the subjunctive form in the seventh verse, which is underlined by the alliteration “ganz […] glichest”, implies that the person addressed in the poem does not resemble her. Nevertheless, the speaker anticipates her to be a pleasant companion on their walks in the sunlit autumn landscape (v. 8). 

4.

“So ich traurig bin“ is the fifth poem in Sänge eines fahrenden Spielmanns (Strains of a Wandering Gleeman) from the third part of Die Bücher der Hirten- und Preisgedichte, der Sagen und Sänge und der hängenden Gärten, where it takes the place between “Heisst es viel dich bitten” and “Sieh mein kind ich gehe”. According to Vilain (2005), in the first eight poems of the cycle, “the minstrel has mastered a pose of intense but stylized devotion, he sings to his beloved in his imagination, so rapt in admiration that he almost hears her voice echoing his”.266

The poem consists of two quatrains with verses of five to six syllables and describes how the speaker takes comfort from singing to his beloved, even if she is not with him. In light of the surrounding poems of the cycle, in which the speaker first desperately wants the other to acknowledge his feelings and then decides to leave her, the relationship is most likely one-sided. George’s use of assonance instead of rhyme results in a slightly archaic tone, which matches the atmosphere of a medieval minstrel’s song. The short verses that are composed of only mono- and disyllabic words convey simplicity. In addition, enjambments connect two and two verses throughout the poem. All verses end with stressed syllables, making it easy for the reader to imagine a singer accompanying himself and improvising each new line while alternating singing and accompaniment. Both stanzas start with trochees (vv. 1-2, 5-7) and end with iambs (vv. 3-4, 8) as if the speaker has to search for the next line and finally knows how to finish the stanza. The change of metre also conveys a change of emotion: The sadness and longing of the beginning are overcome by the act of singing and transform into hope and consolation. The stressed vowels of the first stanza get lighter and thus convey the speaker’s changing emotions as well. Pronouns describing the relation of the speaker (“ich”, “mich”, “mein”) and the beloved (“dir”, “deiner”) predominate the poem and underline his preoccupation with her.

The poem seems stylistically ambivalent, at least to a modern reader. There are elements of refined or poetic language, like the phrase “So ich traurig bin” (v. 1) instead of “Wenn ich traurig bin”, the verb “vernehm” (v. 5) instead of “höre”, or the adjective “minder” (v. 8) instead of “weniger”. On the other hand, some phrases are very simple and informal, like “Weiss ich nur ein ding” (v. 2) instead of “Weiss ich nur eines” or “Ich denke mich bei dir” (v. 3), which appears rather clumsy. There are few embellishments. The mixed style corresponds to the speaker’s situation. He is probably a minstrel, who knows the mannerisms of his trade, yet in this song, he just improvises for himself while he thinks about his beloved.

As listed by Martin (2016), the poem was set to music by at least fifteen different composers.267 Among them were Cyril Meir Scott and Erich Wolff, whose settings have similar melodies. George argued that the reason for the similarity was that this was the melody of the poem itself.268

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