This lovely song by Franz Schubert was written in 1826 and published in 1828 (D 882).If I had to choose my favorite Schubert song, this would most likely be it. There are so many beautiful songs by Schubert, but the text and music of Im Frühling have made a deep impression on me since I was a teenager.
The mood of the song is somewhat ambiguous. It is not a happy song, nor is it a sad song. The song embodies the emotion of Sehnsucht, which is the German word for longing, a key emotion of romanticism. The singer recalls a beautiful springtime experience and would like to have it back. The final stanza is not hopeful, but there is a kind of wistfulness and a bittersweet pleasure in the memory.
The music starts out simple and innocent, as the singer describes his springtime love encounter, then, at the end of the second stanza, the piano flows into a rippling, ecstatic interlude that then becomes the background for the singer's next two stanzas. There is a major change in music in mood with the fifth stanza, which recalls the changes wrought by time and conflict, then the rippling melody returns for the final stanza, a little damped down but as gentle and sweet as the memory. Some singers try to give the song a "happy ending" by raising their volume on the repetition of "Den ganzen Sommer lang," the final line of the singer's text. This does not correspond to the mood of the song. Just watch Fischer-Dieskau's facial expression and notice the little breath pause between "Und säng ein süsses Lied von ihr" and "Den ganzen Sommer lang." He knows it isn't going to happen, but the memory is beautiful.
You can see and hear baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and pianist Gerald Moore perform Im Frühling here.
Im Frühling
Still sitz' ich an des Hügels Hang,
Der Himmel ist so klar,
Das Lüftchen spielt im grünen Tal.
Wo ich beim ersten Frühlingsstrahl
Einst, ach so glücklich war.
Wo ich an ihrer Seite ging
So traulich und so nah,
Und tief im dunklen Felsenquell
Den schönen Himmel blau und hell
Und sie im Himmel sah.
Sieh, wie der bunte Frühling schon
Sieh, wie der bunte Frühling schon
Aus Knosp' und Blüte blickt!
Nicht alle Blüten sind mir gleich,
Am liebsten pflückt ich von dem Zweig,
Von welchem sie gepflückt!
Denn alles ist wie damals noch,
Denn alles ist wie damals noch,
Die Blumen, das Gefild;
Die Sonne scheint nicht minder hell,
Nicht minder freundlich schwimmt im Quell
Das blaue Himmelsbild.
Es wandeln nur sich Will und Wahn,
Es wandeln nur sich Will und Wahn,
Es wechseln Lust und Streit,
Vorüber flieht der Liebe Glück,
Und nur die Liebe bleibt zurück,
Die Lieb und ach, das Leid.
O wär ich doch ein Vöglein nur
O wär ich doch ein Vöglein nur
Dort an dem Wiesenhang
Dann blieb ich auf den Zweigen hier,
Und säng ein süßes Lied von ihr,
Den ganzen Sommer lang.
(Ernst Konrad Friedrich Schulze [1789-1817])
(Ernst Konrad Friedrich Schulze [1789-1817])
German text with thanks from Emily Ezust's Lied and Art Songs Texts Page.
In the Springtime
I sit quietly on the hillside,
The sky is so clear,
A little breeze stirs in the green valley,
Where, once by the first ray of spring,
I was, alas, so happy.
Where I walked at her side
So intimate and so close,
And deep in the dark rocky pool
I saw the lovely sky so blue and bright
And saw her in the sky.
Look how the many-colored spring already
Peeps out of every bud and blossom!
Not every blossom is the same to me,
I want to pick from the twig
From which she picked!
For everything is the way it was then,
The flowers, the meadows;
The sun doesn’t shine any less brightly,
No less pleasantly swims in the pool
The blue reflection of the sky.
Only will and illusion shift,
Desire and conflict change,
The happiness of love goes away
And only love remains,
Love and, alas, the pain.
Oh, if I were only a little bird
There on the meadow slope,
Then I’d stay here in the branches
And sing a sweet song of her
The whole summer long.
(English translation © 2008 by Celia A. Sgroi)
I sit quietly on the hillside,
The sky is so clear,
A little breeze stirs in the green valley,
Where, once by the first ray of spring,
I was, alas, so happy.
Where I walked at her side
So intimate and so close,
And deep in the dark rocky pool
I saw the lovely sky so blue and bright
And saw her in the sky.
Look how the many-colored spring already
Peeps out of every bud and blossom!
Not every blossom is the same to me,
I want to pick from the twig
From which she picked!
For everything is the way it was then,
The flowers, the meadows;
The sun doesn’t shine any less brightly,
No less pleasantly swims in the pool
The blue reflection of the sky.
Only will and illusion shift,
Desire and conflict change,
The happiness of love goes away
And only love remains,
Love and, alas, the pain.
Oh, if I were only a little bird
There on the meadow slope,
Then I’d stay here in the branches
And sing a sweet song of her
The whole summer long.
(English translation © 2008 by Celia A. Sgroi)
