June 06, 2012

Examples from different Centuries

Languages change and develop. Cultural, political and economical changes in the region in which they are spoken cause creations and implementations of new words, simplifications and alterations in orthography, grammar and structure. While some of my German language students from all over the world get excited about reading poems from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and novels from Hermann Hesse in the original language some of my German native speaker students complain a lot about having to understand the meaning of the same texts and developing a proper interpretation from that.  Usually the latter come to the conclusion that they are just too stupid to produce valuable work and good marks. One of my remedies for that is to let them write an interpretation about a song from Peter Fox. Usually the outcome of that is very promising and we can slowly start to develop an allowance and understanding for different expressions ... until we finally are able to get the sense of the "Prometheus" or whatever was on the teachers mind. And we can even discuss it most controversially, which is seems to be pure fun for the 15 and 16 year old boys and girls who have to write about it. So that you know what I am talking about let me include a translation from Steven J. Plunkett:


Shroud your heaven, Zeus,
With cloudy vapours,
And do as you will, like the boy
That knocks the heads off thistles,
With oak-trees and mountain-tops;
Now you must leave alone
My Earth for Me,
And my hut, which you did not build,
And my hearth,
The glowing whereof
You envy me.

I know of nothing poorer
Under the sun, than you, you Gods!
Your majesty
Is barely nourished
By sacrificial offerings
And prayerful exhalations,
And should starve
Were children and beggars not
Fools full of Hope.

When I was a child,
And did not know the in or out,
I turned my wandering eyes toward
The sun, as if, beyond, there were
An ear to hear my lament,
A heart, like mine,
To be moved to pity for the afflicted.

Who helped me
Against the pride of the Titans?
Who delivered me from Death,
From Slavery?
Did you not accomplish it all yourself,
My holy, burning Heart?
And shone, young and good,
Deceived, your thanks for salvation
To the sleeping one above?

Should I honour you? Why?
Have you softened the sufferings,
Ever, of the burdened?
Have you stilled the tears,
Ever, of the anguished?
Was I not forged as a Man
By almighty Time
And eternal Fate,
My masters and thine?

Do you somehow imagine
That I should hate Life,
Flee to the desert,
Because not every
Flowering dream should bloom?
Here I sit, I form humans
After my own image;
A race, to be like me,
To sorrow, to weep,
To enjoy and delight itself,
And to heed you not at all -
Like me!







and a German version would be:


Bedecke deinen Himmel, Zeus,
Mit Wolkendunst!
Und übe, Knaben gleich,
Der Disteln köpft,
An Eichen dich und Bergeshöh'n!
Mußt mir meine Erde
Doch lassen steh'n,
Und meine Hütte,
Die du nicht gebaut,
Und meinen Herd,
Um dessen Glut
Du mich beneidest.

Ich kenne nichts Ärmeres
Unter der Sonn' als euch Götter!
Ihr nähret kümmerlich
Von Opfersteuern
Und Gebetshauch
Eure Majestät
Und darbtet, wären
Nicht Kinder und Bettler
Hoffnungsvolle Toren.

Da ich ein Kind war,
Nicht wußte, wo aus, wo ein,
Kehrt' ich mein verirrtes Auge
Zur Sonne, als wenn drüber wär
Ein Ohr zu hören meine Klage,
Ein Herz wie meins,
Sich des Bedrängten zu erbarmen.

Wer half mir
Wider der Titanen Übermut?
Wer rettete vom Tode mich,
Von Sklaverei?
Hast du's nicht alles selbst vollendet,
Heilig glühend Herz?
Und glühtest, jung und gut,
Betrogen, Rettungsdank
Dem Schlafenden dadroben?

Ich dich ehren? Wofür?
Hast du die Schmerzen gelindert
Je des Beladenen?
Hast du die Tränen gestillet
Je des Geängsteten?
Hat nicht mich zum Manne geschmiedet
Die allmächtige Zeit
Und das ewige Schicksal,
Meine Herren und deine?

Wähntest du etwa,
Ich sollte das Leben hassen,
In Wüsten fliehn,
Weil nicht alle Knabenmorgen-
Blütenträume reiften?

Hier sitz' ich, forme Menschen
Nach meinem Bilde,
Ein Geschlecht, das mir gleich sei,
Zu leiden, weinen,
Genießen und zu freuen sich,
Und dein nicht zu achten,
Wie ich!






If students struggle with this already, one might understand that the very most of them hardly get an idea about the meaning of a text like the following: 


Nahtegal, sing einen dôn mit sinne
mîner hôchgemuoten kuniginne!
kunde ir, daz mîn stæter muot und mîn
herze brinne
nâch irm süezen lîbe und nâch ir minne!



The poem is at least 500 years older than Goethe's so called "hymn". It was found in the Carmina Burana, a collection of songs from the Medieval Times. Friends and lovers of classical music might know it as the basis for a selection that Carl Orff used for setting it to music and publishing it as a cantata under the same name. Most of the original lyrics are written in Medieval Latin, but a few - like the one citated above -  in Middle High German, that indeed looks rather different from the nowadays use of the Standard Language:

Nachtigall, sing einen Ton in aller Sinnlichkeit
für meine edel gesinnte Königin!
Verkünde ihr, dass mein steter Sinn und mein
Herze brennen
nach ihrem süßen Leib und nach ihrer Liebe!

Nightingale sing a sensual tone
for my noble minded queen!
Tell her, that my steady mind and my
heart burn
for her sweet body and her love!

Carl Orff didn't choose this one -  and the one I like  in his cantata is in Latin at best interpreted by a lyric soprano by the way.  But that certainly is a matter of taste.

In his choice one can see an example for the link between language and music. Composers of all times have been very carefully paying attention to the pronounciation and structure of the language they used for their compositions. Not all of them were eloquent writers as well. But the letter writing of one we will take as a last example for this entry, for it shows a unique example of as well the person as the differences to nowadays written German - despite the fact that hardly anyone writes personal letters in any language anymore. ;)

Mailand, 26. Jenner 1770.
Mich freut es recht von ganzem Herzen, daß Du bei der Schlittenfahrt, von der Du mir schreibst, Dich so sehr ergötzt hast, und ich wünsche Dir tausend Gelegenheiten zur Ergötzung, damit Du recht lustig Dein Leben zubringen möchtest. Aber eins verdrießt mich, daß Du den Herrn von Mölk so unendlich seufzen und leiden hast lassen und daß Du nicht mit ihm Schlitten gefahren bist, damit er Dich hätte umschmeißen können. Wie viele Schnupftücher wird er nicht denselbigen Tag wegen Deiner gebraucht haben vor Weinen. Er wird zwar vorher schon drei Lot Weinstein eingenommen haben, die ihm die grausame Unreinigkeit seines Leibes, die er besitzt, ausgetrieben haben wird. Neues weiß ich nichts, als daß Herr Gellert, der Poet zu Leipzig, gestorben ist und dann nach seinem Tode keine Poesien mehr gemacht hat. Just ehe ich diesen Brief angefangen habe, habe ich eine Arie aus dem Demetrio verfertigt, welche so anfängt: Misero tu non sei usw.

Could you guess even as I did not choose one of those that are copied over and over again? Should you be interested you might be happy to find 161 letters of this composer on the Spiegel-Online Gutenberg-Projekt:  http://gutenberg.spiegel.de/buch/5000/1

or in English: http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=1458927

Enjoy!


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