Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühen Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

Mahler himself wrote the words (or most of them) for the Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. They are an extension of a series of poems inspired by an unhappy love affair with Johanna Richter, a soprano in the opera company at Kassel where he was working as a young staff conductor. In some of them he refers to himself as a “fahrender Geselle,” a term which alludes both to the romantic image of the wanderer poet and his own status as a “journeyman” musician. The words and the piano version of the music were written at the end of the affair in 1884. The orchestral version followed as long as nine or more years later.

The literary style adopted by Mahler for these songs is close to that of his favourite collection of folk songs, Des Knaben Wunderhorn. The first of them, which is actually compiled from two of the poems in that collection, is based on the ironic contrast between the happiness of the outside world and the misery of the rejected lover. In the first part of Wenn mein Schatz the situation is particularly poignant, since the outside world is celebrating her wedding while he weeps in his room alone. Mahler intensifies the contrast by mixing two different tempi - the wedding tempo which introduces and periodically interrupts the song and, on the other hand, the very much slower tempo adopted by the lonely voice.

Ging heut Morgen sets him in a similar but less extreme situation. The key is a radiant D major, the melody cheerful, and the orchestral colours are bright with birdsong and bluebells. It is only in the last three lines of the song that the lover turns his attention from the outside world to his own inner self in an uncertain F sharp major.

He touches on the depths of despair in Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer, which plunges the tonality immediately and painfully back into D minor. The E minor funeral march at the beginning of Die zwei blauen Augen is the natural consequence - until, that is, it changes direction and carries the unhappy lover not to his grave but, with a lovely modulation from C minor to F major, to consolation in the bosom of nature. The funereal F minor cadences on flute and harp are no more than a distant echo.

Gerald Larner©

arranged by Arnold Schoenberg (1919)

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

Schoenberg’s arrangement of Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen is one of many such transcriptions made for the Verein für musikalische Privataufführungen (Society for Private Musical Performances) which he and his star pupils Anton Webern and Alban Berg had set up in Vienna in severely straitened post-war circumstances in 1918. A high-minded organisation which devoted unbelievably long hours to rehearsal, it presented as many as 150 different contemporary works – in their original form if the scoring was modest enough, in arrangements otherwise – during the four years of its existence. Dedicated to “giving artists and enlightened amateurs a precise idea of the music of today,” the concerts were open only to subscribers, critics being firmly excluded. Applause was forbidden.

The instrumentation of the present Mahler arrangement – flute, clarinet, harmonium, piano, string quintet and percussion – is much the same as that applied to many of the orchestral works performed by the Society, ranging from Busoni’s Berceuse élégiaque at one extreme to Strauss waltzes at the other. The one peculiarity in this case is the percussion part necessitated by the prominent role given by Mahler to triangle and glockenspiel in the orchestral original. The desirability of having percussion colours available might even have been one of the factors that persuaded Schoenberg to make a chamber arrangement of Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen when there was already a perfectly legitimate voice-and-piano version by Mahler himself. Another might have been the contrast between wind and strings which, for example, is such vital aspect of Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht where the cheerful wedding-dance music on woodwind so poignantly offsets the unhappy reflections made in a slower tempo by voice and strings. Similarly, Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld would be seriously impoverished without the joyful “sound and colour” created by woodwind and percussion only to be drained away in the tragic last three lines.

While it is true that Schoenberg found no satisfactory substitute for    Mahler’s harp in any of the four songs and that the harmonium cannot replace the horns, he is remarkably successful in his version of Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer which is the most heavily scored of all the original but which is just as effective in a version that, necessarily, thrusts the pained vocal line into such high-profile prominence. As in the first song, wind instruments are essential to Die zwei blauen Augen, in this case for authentic colouring of the funeral-march material, not least when it returns for the last time and effects the the chilling change to the minor in the very quiet closing bars.

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

Much romantic art is about being at one with nature. Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen are largely about being at odds with it. They were inspired by an unhappy love affair with Johanna Richter, a soprano in the opera company at Kassel where, in his early twenties, Mahler was a staff conductor. The words, which are for the most part by the composer himself, are an extension of poems he wrote for Johanna in the summer of 1884, where he refers to himself as a “fahrender Geselle” - a term which alludes both to the romantic image of the wanderer poet and his own status as a “journeyman” musician. It was in the last days of the same year, after the relationship had deteriorated beyond repair, that Mahler wrote the words and the music of his Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. The orchestral version of the cycle was completed at least nine years later.

The literary style adopted by Mahler for these songs is close to that of his favourite collection of folk songs, Des Knaben Wunderhorn. Indeed, the first of them, “Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht,” is actually compiled from two Wunderhorn poems and is based on a theme common to much writing of its kind - the contrast between the happiness of the outside world and the misery of the rejected lover. The contrast is particularly poignant in the first part, where the outside world is at her wedding while he weeps in his room alone and where the composer intensifies the situation by mixing two different tempi - the wedding tempo, which introduces and periodically interrupts the song, and the very much slower reflective tempo adopted by the lonely voice.

“Ging heut Morgen” sets him in a similar situation. The harmonies are radiant, the melody (used again later in the First Symphony) cheerful, and the orchestral colours bright with birdsong and bluebells. The whole effect is heightened with a magical modulation as the sun begins to sparkle on the scene. It is only in the last three lines of the song that the lover turns his attention from the outside world to his own inner self. The tempo slows down, the harmonies register uncertainty, and the journeyman answers his own modest question in the negative - which is sadly confirmed by a solo violin in the last bars.

He touches on the depth of despair in “Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer” which plunges the harmonies back into the unhappy area of the first song. The pain, so vividly suggested by horn and muted trumpet, is scarcely relieved by memories of her blue eyes, her gold hair, and her silvery laughter. On the contrary, they inspire the death wish that so chillingly ends the song. The funeral march at the beginning of “Die zwei blauen Augen” is the natural consequence. However, it carries the unhappy lover not to his grave but, with a lovely change of harmony, to consolation in the bosom of nature (this section too Mahlere used in the First Symphony). The conflict between the outside world and the inner self is resolved in a shower of petals from the maternal lime tree. The funereal cadences on flute and harp are no more than a distant echo.

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühen Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

The Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen are the result of Mahler’s unhappy love affair with Johanna Richter, a soprano in the opera company at Cassel where he was a staff conductor between 1883 and 1885. The words (or most of them) he wrote himself in a series of poems addressed to Johanna between August and December 1884. It was only towards the end of the affair that he set them to music and it was only in 1897, when he had completed the orchestral version, that the work was published. The title, taken from a popular collection of poems by Rudolf Baumbach, he no doubt felt appropriate not only because of the romantic association of the “fahrender Geselle” with the wanderer poet but also because of his own status in Cassel as a “journeyman” musician.

The literary style adopted by Mahler for these songs is close to that of Des Knaben Wunderhorn - remarkably close considering that he is said not to have discovered thast anthology until 1888. The first of them is actually compiled from two of the poems in Des Knaben Wunderhorn. It is based on a theme common to much writing of its kind, which is the contrast between the happiness of the outside world and the misery of the rejected lover. In the first part of Wenn mein Schatz the contrast is particularly poignant: the outside world is at her wedding while he weeps in his room alone. Mahler intensifies the contrast by mixing two different tempi. On the one hand, there is the wedding tempo which introduces and periodically interrupts the song; on the other hand, there is the very much slower reflective tempo adopted by the lonely voice. At the beginning of the second part of the song, where he looks to nature for comfort and where the wedding dance mingles with the bird song, an optimistic change of harmony proves unrealistic in the context and, inevitably, the key returns to the minor and the lover to his isolation.

Ging heut Morgen sets him in a similar situation. The harmonies are now radiantly in the major, the melody (used again later in the First Symphony), cheerful, and the accompanying colours bright with birdsong and bluebells. It is only in the last three lines of the song that the lover turns his attention from the outside world to his own inner self. The tempo slows down and, amid undecisive harmonies, he answers his own modest question in the negative.

He touches on the dept of despair in Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer, which plunges the tonality immediately back into the minor. The pain so vividly expressed in the piano harmonies is scarcely relieved by memories of her blue eyes, her golden hair, and her silvery laughter. On the contrary, they inspire the death wish that ends the song so chillingly. The funeral march at the beginning of Die zwei blauen Augen is a natural consequence. However, it carries the unhappy lover not to his grave but, with a lovely modulation, to consolation in the bosom of nature (this section too he used in the First Symphony). The conflict between the outside world and the inner self is resolved in a shower of petals from the maternal lime tree. The funereal cadences are no more than a distant echo.

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühen Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

The Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen are the result of Mahler’s unhappy love affair with Johanna Richter, a soprano in the opera company at Cassel where he was a staff conductor between 1883 and 1885. The words (or most of them) he wrote himself in a series of poems addressed to Johanna between August and December 1884. It was only towards the end of the affair that he set them to music and it was only in 1897, when he had completed the orchestral version, that the work was published. The title, taken from a popular collection of poems by Rudolf Baumbach, he no doubt felt appropriate not only because of the romantic association of the “fahrender Geselle” with the wanderer poet but also because of his own status in Cassel as a “journeyman” musician.

The literary style adopted by Mahler for these songs is close to that of his favourite collection of folksongs, Des Knaben Wunderhorn - remarkably close considering that he is said not to have discovered the anthology until 1888. The first of them is actually compiled from two of the poems in Des Knaben Wunderhorn. It is based on a theme common to much writing of its kind, which is the contrast between the happiness of the outside world and the misery of the rejected lover. In the first part of Wenn mein Schatz the contrast is particularly poignant, since the outside world is at her wedding while he weeps in his room alone. Mahler intensifies the contrast by mixing two different tempi. On the one hand, there is the wedding tempo which introduces and periodically interrupts the song; on the other hand, there is the very much slower reflective tempo adopted by the lonely voice. At the beginning of the second part of the song, where he looks to nature for comfort and where the wedding dance mingles with the bird song, the key changes from D minor to E flat major, which is clearly unrealistic in the context. Inevitably, the key returns to D minor and the lover to his isolation.

Ging heut Morgen sets him in a similar situation. The key now is a radiant D major, the melody (used again later in the First Symphony), cheerful, and the accompanying colours bright with birdsong and bluebells. The whole effect is heightened when, with the sun sparkling on the scene, the key changes to B major. It is only in the last three lines of the song that the lover turns his attention from the outside world to his own inner self. The tempo slows down; the key changes to an uncertain F sharp major; and he answers his own modest question in the negative.

He touches on the dept of despair in Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer, which plunges the tonality immediately back into D minor. The pain so vividly expressed in the piano harmonies is scarcely relieved by memories of her blue eyes, her gold hair, and her silvery laughter. On the contrary, they inspire the death wish which so chillingly ends the song in E flat minor. The E minor funeral march at the beginning of Die zwei blauen Augen is a natural consequence. However, it carries the unhappy lover not to his grave but, with a lovely modulation from C minor to F major, to consolation in the bosom of nature (this section too he used in the First Symphony). The conflict between the outside world and the inner self is resolved in a shower of petals from the maternal lime tree. The funereal F minor cadences are no more than a distant echo.

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld

Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer

Die zwei blauen Augen

Mahler himself wrote the words - or most of them - for the Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. They are an extension of a series of poems inspired in 1884 by his love for Johanna Richter, a soprano in the opera company at Kassel where Mahler was a young staff conductor. In some of them he refers to himself as a “fahrender Geselle,” a term which alludes both to the romantic image of the wanderer poet and his own status as a “journeyman” musician. To judge by the changing mood of the poem, his short relationship with Johanna, though happy enough in August, had deteriorated sadly by December. It was in the last days of the same year that Mahler wrote the words and the music for the song cycle. The date of its orchestration cannot be precisely determined, but it was at least nine years later, and it seems likely that revisions were made before the work was first performed - in Berlin, with the composer conducting and Anton Sistermans the soloist - in March 1896.

The literary style adopted by Mahler for these songs is close to that of his favourite collection of folk songs, Des Knaben Wunderhorn - remarkably close considering that he is said not to have discovered the anthology before 1888. The first of them is actually compiled from two of the poems in Des Knaben Wunderhorn. It is based on a theme common to much writing of its kind, which is the contrast between the happiness of the outside world and the misery of the rejected lover. In the first part of “Wenn mein Schatz” the contrast is particularly poignant, since the outside world is at her wedding while he weeps in his room alone. Mahler intensifies the contrast by mixing two different tempi. On the one hand, there is the wedding tempo which introduces and periodically interrupts the song; on the other hand, there is the very much slower reflective tempo adopted by the lonely voice. At the beginning of the second part of the song, where he looks to nature for comfort and where the wedding dance mingles with the bird song, the key changes from D minor to E flat major. But it is too early for consolation: the key returns to D minor and the lover to his isolation.

“Ging heut Morgen” sets him in a similar situation. The key is a radiant D major, the melody (used again later in the First Symphony), cheerful, and the orchestral colours are bright with birdsong and bluebells. The whole effect is heightened when, with the sun sparkling on the scene, the key changes to B major. It is only in the last three lines of the song that the lover turns his attention from the outside world to his own inner self. The tempo slows down; the key changes to an uncertain F sharp major; and he answers his own modest question in the negative - which is sadly confirmed by a solo violin in the last bars.

He touches on the depth of despair in “Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer” which plunges the tonality immediately back into D minor. The pain, so vividly suggested by horn and muted trumpet, is scarcely relieved by memories of her blue eyes, her gold hair, and her silvery laughter. On the contrary, they inspire the death wish which so chillingly ends the song in E flat minor.

The E minor funeral march at the beginning of “Die zwei blauen Augen” is a natural consequence of the previous song. However, it carries the unhappy lover not to his grave but, with a lovely modulation from C minor to F major, to consolation in the bosom of nature (this section too he used in the First Symphony). The conflict between the outside world and the inner self is resolved in a shower of petals from the maternal lime tree. The funereal F minor cadences on flute and harp are no more than a distant echo.

Gerald Larner©

Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen

Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht,

Fröhliche Hochzeit macht,

Hab’ ich meinen traurigen Tag!

Geh’ ich in mein Kämmerlein,

Dunkles Kämmerlein!

Weine! Wein’! Um meinen Schatz,

Um meinen lieben Schatz!

Blümlein blau! Blümlein blau!

Verdorre nicht, verdorre nicht!

Vöglein süss! Vöglein süss!

Du singst auf grüner Haide!

Ach! Wie ist die Welt so schön!

Ziküth! Ziküth! Ziküth!

Singet nicht! Blühet nicht!

Lenz ist ja vorbei!

Alles Singen ist nun aus!

Des Abends wenn ich schlafen geh’,

denk ich an mein Leid’

- an mein Leide!

My sweetheart’s wedding day,

Happy wedding day,

Is a sad day for me!

I go to my little room,

My dark little room!

I weep! weep for my sweetheart,

For my dear sweetheart!

Little blue flower! Little blue flower!

Do not wither! Do not wither!

Sweet little bird! Sweet little bird!

Singing on the heath

Oh! how beautiful the world is!

Twitter! Twitter! Twitter!

Don’t sing! Don’t bloom!

Spring is over!

There’s no more singing now!

In the evening, when I go to sleep,

I think of my sorrow!

Of my sorrow!

Ging heut Morgen über’s Feld,

Tau noch auf den Gräsern hing,

Sprach zu mir der lust’ge Fink:

“Ei, du! Gelt?

Guten Morgen! Ei, Gelt? Du!

Wird’s nicht eine schöne Welt?

Schöne Welt?

Kling! Kling! Kling! Kling!

Schönes Ding!

Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt! Hei - ah!”

Und da fing im SonnenscheIn

Gleich die Welt zu funkeln an;

Alles, Alles, Ton und Farbe gewann!

Im Sonnenschein!

Blum’ und Vogel, gross und klein!

Guten Tag! Guten Tag!

Ist’s nicht eine schöne Welt?

Ei, du! Gelt? Ei, du! Gelt?

Schöne Welt!

“Nun fängt auch mein Glück wohl an?!

Nein! Nein! Das ich mein’

Mir nimmer, nim mer blühen kann!”

I went across the fields this morning,

When dew was still on the grass,

And a cheerful finch said to me:

“Hi, you there! How are you?

Good morning! Hi, how are you?

Isn’t it going to be a lovely world today?

Lovely world?

Cheep! Cheep!

Lovely and lively!

How I love the world!”

And the bluebells by the field,

The happy, pretty things,

With their little bells,

Klingaling! Klingaling!

Rang their morning greetings:

“Isn’t it going to be a lovely world today?

Lovely world?

Klingaling! Klingaling!

Beautiful thing!

How I love the world! Hey Ho!”

And then in the sunshine

Everything began to sparkle;

Everything, took sound and colours on!

In the sunshine!

Flowers and birds, big and small!

Good day! Good day!

Isn’t a lovely world?

Hi, you there! How are you?

Lovely world!

“Am I going to be happy too?!

No! No! I don’t think so,

Things will never ever come to flower for me!”

Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer,

Ein Messer in meiner Brust,

O weh! O weh! Das schneid’t so tief

In jede Freud’ und jede Lust,

So tief! so tief!

Es schneid’t so weh und tief!

Ach, was ist das für ein böser Gast!

Nimmer hält er Ruh’

Nimmer hält er Rast!

Nicht bei Tag, nicht bei Nacht, wenn ich schlief!

O weh! O weh! O weh!

Wenn ich den Himmel seh’,

Seh’ ich zwei blaue Augen steh’n!

O weh! O weh!

Wenn ich im gelben Felde geh’,

Seh’ ich von Fern das blonde Haar

Im Winde weh’n!

O weh! O weh!

Wenn ich aus dem Traum aufffahr’

Und höre klingen ihr silbern Lachen,

O weh! O weh!

ich wollt’ ich läg auf der schwarzen Bahr’,

Könnt’ nimmer, nimmer die Augen aufmachen!

I have a burning knife,

A knife in my breast,

Oh woe! Oh woe! It cuts so deep

In every pleasure and every joy,

So deep! So deep!

It cuts so sharp and deep!

Oh what an evil guest it is!

It never gives me peace,

It never gives me rest!

Not by day, not by night if I slept!

Oh woe! Oh woe! Oh woe!

When I look at the sky

I see two blue eyes there!

Oh woe! Oh woe!

When I go to the yellow fields

I see from afar her blond hair

Blowing in the wind!

Oh woe! Oh woe!

When I wake up from my dreams

And hear the silvery ring of her laughter

Oh woe! Oh woe!

I wish I were lying on my black bier,

And that I could never open my eyes again!

Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz,

Die haben mich in die weite Welt geschickt.

Da musst’ ich Abschied nehmen

Vom allerliebsten Platz!

O Augen blau, warum habt ihr mich angeblickt!?

Nun hab’ ich ewig Leid und Grämen!

Ich bin ausgegangen in stiller Nacht,

In stiller Nacht wohl über die dunkle Haide;

Hat mir Niemand Ade gesagt.

Ade! Ade! Ade!

Mein Gesell’ war Lieb’ und Leide!

Auf der Strasse steht ein Lindenbaum,

Da hab’ ich zum ersten Mal im Schlaf geruht!

Unter dem Lindenbaum!

Der hat seine Blüten über mich geschneit,

Da wusst’ ich nicht, wie das Leben tut,

War alles, alles wieder gut!

Ach, alles wieder gut!

Alles! Alles! Lieb’ und Leid,

Und Welt, und Traum!

The two blue eyes of my sweetheart,

They’ve sent me off into the wide world.

So I had to take my leave

Of the place I love best of all!

Oh blue eyes, why did you every look at me?

Now I’ll be in pain and sorrow for ever!

I went out in the silent night,

The silent night over the dark heath;

Nobody said Farewell to me,

Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!

My companions were love and pain!

On the street there stands a lime tree,

Where for the first time I slept!

Under the lime tree!

It snowed its blossoms over me

And I didn’t know, as it is in life,

That everything, everything was good again!

Ah, everything was good again!

Everything! Love and pain,

The world, and dreams!

text: Gustav Mahler

translation: Gerald Larner