Ist das etwa der Tod?

De curand, David Lynch a fost invitat la KCRW, sa o faca pe dj-ul pentru o ora, timp in care a discutat despre cantecele care l-au marcat.

I’m going to go to Richard Strauss. We’re getting into long haired stuff now. I was in a really swank Mercedes Benz in Germany one night. Black, deep black and snow flakes the size of silver dollars coming down. And I’d been left in the car – I forget who I was with but they had gone into a building and I had been left in the car – and I turned on the radio and I heard this thing. And it thrilled my soul. This particular piece of music at that particular time, I saw in my minds eye, my four year old son coming down a flight of stairs and it made me start crying.

Richard Strauss: Vier Letzte Lieder / Four Last Songs
Gewandhaus Orchestra, Leipzig, l982

Evening’s Glow (Eichendorff)

Through trouble and joy we have
walked hand in hand;
we can rest from our wanderings
now, above the peaceful country-side.

The valleys fall away around us,
the sky is already darkening,
Only a pair of larks still rise
dreamily into the scented air.

Come here, and let them fly
For soon it will be time to sleep
and we must not lose our way
in this solitude.

O broad, contented peace!
So deep in the sunset glow,
How exhausted we are with our
wanderings—
can this then be death?

Im Abendroht (Eichendorff)

Wir sind durch Not und Freude
Gegangen Hand in Hand,
Vom Wandern ruhen wir beide
Nun überm stillen Land.

Rings sich die Täler neigen,
Es dunkelt schon die Luft,
Zwei Lerchen nur noch steigen
Nachträumend in den Duft.

Tritt her und laß sie schwirren,
Bald ist es Schlafenszeit,
Daß wir uns nicht verirren
In dieser Einsamkeit.

O weiter, stiller Friede!
So tief im Abendrot ,
Wie sind wir wandermüde –
Ist das etwa der Tod?

Au crépuscule (Eichendorff)

Nous avons dans la peine et joie
Marché la main dans la main,
De notre errance nosu reposons
A présent sur une terre paisible.

Autour, les vallés s’abbaisent,
L’air s’assombrit déja,
Seules deux alouettes montent
Revant dans la nuit parfumée.

Approche et laisse-les battre des ailes,
Il est bientot temps de dormir;
Que nous ne nous égarions
Dans cette slitude.

O vaste paix sereine,
Si profonde au crépuscule.
Que nous sommes las d’errer –
Serait-ce donc la mort?


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