Hugo Wolf/Eduard Mörike - "Auf eine Christblume"

A reading of the poem "Auf eine Christblume" by Eduard Mörike followed by the song setting of the poem by Hugo Wolf.

The Christmas rose has long been a symbol of the yuletide season in German lands, inspiring poems and songs in its honor.

Mörikes work ranges from folksong simplicity to the formal sophistication of the classical hexameter. In one of his greatest poems, Auf eine Christblume (On a Christmas Rose), the discovery in a churchyard of the rare, winter-blooming flower occasions a meditation in which time, death, transcendence, Christian and pagan elements, presence and mystery are woven together in a verbal net which is delicate to the point of weightlessness, yet profoundly actual in a way that far removes it from any charge of preciosity. And this is true of all Mörikes finest poetry: that the gentle subtlety of his lyricism is continuous with, not opposed to, or removed from, the grain of living experience.
--- Justin Wintle, "Makers of 19th Century Culture"

Hugo Wolfs songs are considered by many to represent the pinnacle of song, they are also the least-known works of all the great lieder composers. Because his music is so closely linked to the poetry, his songs require a clear understanding of the German words in order to appreciate how subtly he has translated meanings into musical sound, finding the exact inflection and drama inherent in each word. In the delicate balancing of text and music, it is the text that controls the direction of his music.
---Lorraine Gorrell, "The 19th Century German Lied"

Wolfs setting of Mörikes Auf eine Christblume was written in 1888. In all Wolf set 53 of Mörikes poems during that year.


Auf eine Christblume Tochter des Walds, du Lilienverwandte, so lang von mir gesuchte, unbekannte, im fremden Kirchhof, öd' und winterlich, zum ersten mal, o schöne, find' ich dich! Von welcher Hand gepflegt du hier erblühtest, ich weiß es nicht, noch Wessen Grab du hütest; ist es ein Jüngling, so geschah ihm Heil, ist's eine Jungfrau, lieblich fiel ihr Teil. Im nächt'gen Hain, von Schneelicht überbreitet, wo fromm das Reh an dir vorüber weidet, bei der Kapelle, am krystall'nen Teich, dort sucht' ich deiner Heimat zauberreich. Schön bist du, Kind des Mondes, nicht der Sonne, Dir wäre tödtlich andrer Blumen Wonne, dicht nährt, den keuschen Leib voll Reif und Duft, himmlischer Kälte balsam süße Luft. In deines Busens goldner Fülle gründet ein Wohlgeruch, der sich nur kaum verkündet; so duftete, berührt von Engelshand, der benedeiten Mutter Brautgewand. Dich würden, mahnend an das heil'ge Leiden, fünf Purpurtropfen schön und einzig kleiden: Doch kindlich zierst du, um die Weihnachtszeit, lichtgrün mit einem Hauch dein weißes Kleid. Der Elfe, der in mitternächt'ger Stunde zum Tanze geht im lichterhellen Grunde, vor deiner mystischen Glorie steht er scheu neugierig still von fern und huscht vorbei.

Eduard Mörike (1804-1875)


To a christmas rose

Daughter of the forest, relative of the lily,
I have looked for you for so long, unknown,
and it is in a foreign churchyard, bleak and wintery,
that I have found you, o beauty, for the first time.

Whose caring hand it is that has allowed you to bloom
I don't know. Nor do I know whose grave you are protecting.
If it is a boy's, he has found salvation,
if it is a girl's, her fate was lovely.

It was in a grove at night, covered with light from the snow,
where the gentle deer grazed around you,
by the chapel, next to a crystal pond,
that I looked for your homeland, your magic kingdom.

You are beautiful. You are a child of the moon, not the sun.
What for other flowers brings joy would be deadly for you.
Your chaste body, all frost and scent, is nourished by
the balsam sweet air of heavenly cold.

From the golden fullness of your breast arises
a wonderful fragrance, which barely announces itself.
It recalls the scent, touched by an angel's hand,
of the holy mother's bridal gown.

What would suit you, in memory of the holy passion,
would be five purple drops as your sole beautifying ornament,
but you are childlike in decorating yourself at Christmas time
in a white dress with a hint of light green.

The elf, at midnight,
on his way to dance in a bright clearing,
comes to a standstill before your mystical glory;
he looks at you, fascinated, from afar, and then runs off.

Translation by Malcolm Wren

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (baritone/reciter)
Gerald Moore (piano)

Category:

Music

Tags:

• classical
• vocal
• lieder
• Hugo
• Wolf
• Eduard
• Mörike
• German
• poetry
• Auf
• eine
• Christblume
• Fischer-Dieskau
• Christmas

[vereiana]

Thank you very much!

[megansspark]

excellence. Particularly enjoyed the sequence with the elf.. the tinkling piano and his disappearance, and pov as fleeing... :)

[jenspen]

Magical. Thankyou for including the critical opinions of this song.

[IanBorthwick]

One of Wolf's most beautiful song. It's great to hear the poem read aloud first. Wolf often did this when he performed his songs in Lied recitals

[BeyondOrwell]

echt schön gelesen!

danke :)

[cubanbach]

WOW That is the first time I have heard this song sung RIGHT and PERFECTLY! What a dream team of Fischer-Dieskau and Moore! It's a shame that Hugo Wolf never finished the orchestration of this song. It is probably my favorite of all of his masterpieces for the voice and piano and the mystical harmonies throughout would be so well suited to a magical arrangement.