In der Hütte am Berg


"Was ich lieb und was ich bitte,
Gönnen mir die Menschen nicht,
Darum, kleine, moosge Hütte,
Meid ich so des Tages Licht.

Bin herauf zu dir gekommen,
Wo ich oft der Welt vergaß,
Gerne sinnend bei dem frommen
Roten Kerzenschimmer saß.

Weil ich drunten mich verliere
In dem Treiben bang und hohl,
Schließe dich, du kleine Türe,
Und mir werde wieder wohl!" —

So der Einsamkeit gegeben,
Hing ich alten Träumen nach,
Doch der Flamme ruhig Weben
Trost in meine Trauer sprach.

— Leise, wie durch Geisterhände,
Öffnet sich die Türe bald,
Und es tritt in meine Wände
Eine liebliche Gestalt.

Was ich lieb und was ich flehte,
Freundlich, schüchtern vor mir stand,
Ohne Sinn und ohne Rede
Hielt ich die geliebte Hand;

Fühle Locken bald und Wange
Sanft ans Antlitz mir gelegt,
Während sich im sel'gen Drange
Träne mir um Träne regt.

— Freundlich Bild im himmelblauen
Kleide mit dem Silbersaum!
Werde nimmer so dich schauen,
Und mich täuschte nur ein Traum.



Eduard Mörike 1822













In the Hut on the Hill


"That which I love and long for,
They would always brush away,
So, little mossy refuge,
I shun the light of day.

Have climbed the path to you,
Where I oft the world forgot
By the glowing red of candles
Where I then its captive sat.

Down below I lose myself 
In the bustle, loud and vain,
So close behind me, little door, 
That I be cured, be whole again!"—

Thus to solitude given over,
My old dreams would unfold,
And the quiet weaving flame
Rid the sorrow from my soul.

— Quietly, as if by spirit's hand,
My door would open first,
Then into my room entered
A lovely maiden's ghost.

What I love and what I begged for,
Stood before me gracious, shy,
Without thinking, lacking words
I took her precious hand in mine;

Felt curls and then a cheek
On my visage softly placed,
Overcome with holy rapture
Felt tears upon my face. 

— Oh gentle figure dressed
in sky-blue, silver seamed!
Never more to see thee thus
ah, 'twas nothing but a dream.


Translation: Charles L. Cingolani


1822 — Mörike at the age of 18 began his study of theology at the Univeristy of Tübingen.

Thinly disguised in this early poem Mörike tells us as much about himself as about the anonymous speaker. For at the time he composed this poem he was a young student in Tübingen who was having trouble adjusting to the regimentation of academic life andwas often repremanded for neglegence. He was struggling with his doubts as to his choice of the ministry as a profession.

Mörike would rather have been free to devote himself to art and an unconventional way of life. He disdained the noise and bustle of the city. His greatest pleasure was to break away from the university and be out in the nearby woods and hills alone or with a small groupe of choice friends. He was reclusive and sensitive. And in poor health. It was in solitude that he came alive and could begin to experience his creative talent. Already in this early poem Mörike has focused the one topic that will be predominant throughout all his poetry: love.