Schottische Lieder von Haydn, Pleyel, Kozeluch und Beethoven

Für unser Konzert am 1. Oktober 2000 wurden die Texte etlicher schottischer
Lieder für das Programmheft erfaßt. Es handelt sich dabei allerdings nur um
eine Auswahl der Lieder, die bei uns aufgeführt wurden, und auch nicht
unbedingt um sämtliche Strophen. Vielleicht kann sie jemand anderer auch
brauchen, wir stellen sie daher auch ins Internet:

Joseph Haydn, Twelve Scotch Folk Songs

Nr. 2: The Birks of Abergeldie (Schloß in Schottland)

1. Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie, will ye go to the birks of Abergeldie?
Ye shall get a gown o' silk, a gown o' silk, a gown o' silk,
ye shall get a gown o' silk, and a coat o' calliemankie!

2. Na, kind sir, I dare nae gang, dare nae gang, dare nae gang,
na, kind sir, I dare nae gang, my minnie will be angry.
Sair, sair, wad she flyte, wad she flyte, wad she flyte, wad she flyte,
sair, sair, wad she flyte, and sair wad she ban me!

Nr. 5: On a Bank of Flowers

1. On a bank of flowr's in a summer's day, for summer lightly drest,
the youthful blooming Nelly lay, with love and sleep opprest.
When Wille wandring thro' the wood, who for her favour oft had su'd,
he gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, and trembled where he stood.

3. Her robes light waving in the breeze, her tender limbs embrace,
her lovely form, her native ease, all harmony and grace.
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll, a falt'ring, ardent kiss he stole,
he gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, and sigh'd his very soul.

4. As flies the partridge from the brake, on fear inspired wings,
so Nelly, starting. half awake, away affrighted springs;
but Willy follow'd, as he shou'd, he overtook her in the wood,
he vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid forgiving all and good.

Nr. 6: The White Cockade

1. My love was born in Aberdeen,
the bonniest lad that e'er was seen,
but now he makes our heart's fu'sad,
he takes the field with his white cockade.

Refrain: Oh he's a ranting, roving lad,
he is a brisk and a bonny lad,
betide what may I will be wed,
and follow the boy with the white cockade.

2. I'll sell my rock, my reel, my tow,
my gude grey mare, and hawkit cow,
to buy myself a tartan plaid,
to follow the boy with the white cockade.

Refrain.

Nr. 8: The Soger Laddie

1. My Soger Laddie is over the sea,
and he will bring gold and money to me;
and when he comes home he'll make me a lady
my blessings gang with me soger laddie.
My doughty laddie is handsome and brave,
and can as a soger and lover behave;
he's true to his country, to love he is steddy;
there's few to compare wi' my soger laddie.

2. Shield him, ye angels, frae death in alarms,
return him with laurels to my longing arms,
syne frae all my care ye'll pleasantly free
me when back to my wishes my soger ye gie me.
O, soon may his honours bloom fair on his brow,
as quickly they must, if he get his due;
for in noble actions his courage is ready
which makes me delight in my soger laddie.

Nr. 9: I love my love

1. My Sandy gied to me a ring,
was a' beset gi' diamond fine,
but I gied him a better thing,
I gied my heart in plegde o' his ring.

Refrain: My Sandy, O, my Sandy, O! My bonny, bonny Sandy, O!
Tho' the love that I owe to thee I dare na show
yet I love my love in secret, my Sandy, O!

2. My Sandy brak a piece of gow'd,
while down his cheeks the saut tears row'd,
he took a hauf and gied it me,
and I'll keep it till the hour I die.

Refrain.

Nr. 10: The Ploughman

1. The ploughman he's a bonny lad, his mind is ever true. Jo!
his garters knit below his knee, his bonnet it is blue Jo!

Refrain: Then up wit a' my ploughman lad, and hey my merry ploughman,
of a' the trades that I do ken commend me to the ploughman.

3. I hae been east, I hae been west, I hae been at Saint Johnston:
the gudeblue bannet on his head, and, Oh! but he was handsome.

Refrain.

Deutsche Texte:

2. Abergeldie

1. Schöne Kleine, komm zu uns, komm zu uns, komm zu uns,
Schöne Kleine, komm zu uns, zu den Herrn von Abergeldie!
Lockt dich nicht ein Seidenschal, ein Seidenschal, ein Seidenschal?
Lockt dich nicht ein Seidenschal und ein Kleid aus Callimankie?

2. Nein, ihr Herrn, ich wag es nicht, ich wag es nicht, ich wag es nicht,
Nein, ihr Herrn, ich wag es nicht, denn was würde Mutter sagen?
Oh, sie würde böse sein, so böse sein, so böse sein,
Oh, sie würde böse sein und mich sicher auch noch schlagen!

5. Im grünen Hag

1. Zur Sommerszeit, im grünen Hag,
nur leicht verhüllt, allein,
Jung Nelly unter Blumen lag
und schlief voll Liebespein.
Von ungefähr jung Willy naht,
der ihre Gunst schon oft gesucht.
Jetzt steht er starr, weiß keinen Rat,
da Gott ihn so versucht.

2. Wie Scherter, die man wohl versorgt,
schließt sie die Augen zu,
ihr Hauch den Duft der Rose borgt,
die Lippen glühn in Ruh.
Und Lilien pressen süß und mild
ihr Küsse auf die bange Brust;
von Sehnsuchtsqual ist er erfüllt,
entzweit von Leid und Lust.

3. Der Glieder Pracht liebkost der Wind,
es flattert leicht ihr Kleid,
so unbefangen wie ein Kind
liegt schlafend da die Maid.
Ein Sturm erfaßt sein volles Herz,
er raubt ihr einen Kuß
und bebt und weiß nicht mehr was Ernst, was Scherz;
ein Seufzer ihm entschwebt.

4. Jung Nelly, einem Vogel gleich,
der zag die Flügel schlägt,
springt auf von holdem Schrecken bleich
und fließt von Angst bewegt.
Doch Willy folgt der schnellen Maid,
im Dickicht holt er sie noch ein;
er schwört, erfleht und sie verzeiht
und läßt ihn glücklich sein.

6. Das weiße Heer

1. Aus Aberdeen mein Liebster stammt,
der schönste Bursch ist er im Land;
doch jetzt macht er das Herz mit schwer,
er zieht ins Feld mit dem weißen Heer.

Refrain:
Er ist ein lustiger Gesell,
ein flotter, fröhlicher Sturmgesell.
Was auch kommen mag, ich laß ihn nicht,
ich folg seiner Fahne durch Nacht zum Licht.

2. Ich gab mein gutes Spinnrad hin,
ich hab für Pferd und Kuh nicht Sinn,
Ein Tuch nur brauch ich, sonst nichts mehr,
ich zieh mit ihm und dem weißen Heer.

Refrain

3. Und wenn der Krieg vorüber ist,
wird Hochzeit sein zur selben Frist,
die Fahnen schwingt man mir zur Ehr,
Soldatenfrau in dem weißen Heer.

Refrain

8. Mein Liebster

1. Mein Liebster zog als Soldat in den Streit,
und was er erbeutet, mir ist's geweiht,
und kommt er nach Haus, dann wird er mich freien,
drum wünsch ich ihm stets das beste Gedeihen.
Mein Liebster ist tapfer, mein Liebster ist kühn,
im Kampf, in der Lieb ist der Sieg nur für ihn,
und nie wird er Fahne, noch Liebste verraten,
ja, ja, sie sind selten, die braven Soldaten!

2. Ach, schützt ihn, Engel, vor Tod und Gefahr,
und gebt mir ihn wieder, heil wie er war!
Befreit mich von allen quälenden Sorgen,
erhört mein Gebet, so heute wie morgen!
Ach hielt' schon den Lorbeer des Siegs seine Hand,
den Lohn für den Tapfern, den Besten im Land!
Ihn drängt ja die Seele zu glorreichen Taten.

9. Heimliche Liebe

1. Mein Sandy gab mir einen Ring,
ein stolzer Demant schmückte ihn,
dafür er reichsten Lohn empfing,
ich gab mein ganzes herz ihm hin.

Refrain:
Mein Sandy, o mein Sandy, o!
Mein lieber, lieber Sandy, o!
Kann ich dir ins Gesicht
meine Liebe zeigen nicht,
nun, dann lieb ich dich
ganz heimlich, du Bösewicht!

2. Seinen goldnen Reif brach er entzwei,
viel Tränen weinte er dabei.
Das eine Spänglein er mir gab,
das nehm' ich einst mit mir ins Grab.

Refrain

10. Mein Ackersmann

1. Mein Ackersmann betrügt mich nie,
er ist mir Schirm und Stütze;
das Strumpfband trägt er unterm Knie
und blau ist seine Mütze.

Refrain:
Heil dir, du braver Ackersmann,
du Perle ohnegleichen!
Dein Werk bleibt immer obenan,
kein andrer kann's erreichen.

3. Nie sah beim Tanz ich irgendwo
ein Auge heller schimmern
als sein's, das schimmert hell und froh,
wenn Baß und Fiedel wimmern.


Ignaz Pleyel

Oh! Open the door

1. Oh, open the door, some pity to shew,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh !
Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh !

2. Oh, cold is the blast upon my pale cheek,
But colder thy love for me, Oh !
The frost that freezes the life at my breast,
Is nought to my pains from thee, Oh !

3. The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,
And time is setting with me, Oh !
False friends, false Love, farewell ! for more
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh!

4. She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide,
She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh !
"My true love !" she cried, and sunk down by his side,
Never to rise again, Oh !

O waly waly

O Waly Waly, up the bank,
And waly, waly, down the brae,
And waly by yon burnside,
Where I and my love wont to gae.
I leant my back, unto an aik,
I thought it was a trusty tree,
But first it bowed and syne it brake,
And sae did my true love to me.

Johann Anton Kozeluch

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear (Robert Burns)

1. Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear,
Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tear - Jessy !
Altho' thou maun never be mine,
Altho' even hope is denied;
'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
Than aught in the world beside - Jessy

3. Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear,
Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet
And soft as their parting tear - Jessy !
I guess by the dear angel smile,
I guess by the love rolling e'e:
But why urge the tender confession
'Gainst Fortune's stern, cruel decree!

Ye banks and braes of bonnie Doon (Robert Burns)

1. Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair ?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae wary fu' of care !
Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons through- thec flowry thorn;
Thou mind'st me of departed joys,
Departed, never to return!

2. Oft have I roved by bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree,
And my fause lover staw my rose,
But ah ! he left the thorn wi' me.

The lazy mist hangs (Dr. Blacklock)

1. The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill:
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear,
As autumn to winter resigns the pale year.

2. The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,
And all the gay foppery of summer is flown;
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,
How quick time is flying, how keen fate pursues.

My Patie is lover gay (Allan Ramsey)

1. My Patie is lover gay,
His mind is never muddy,
His breath is sweeter than new hay,
His face is fair and ruddy:
His shape is handsome, middle size,
He's stately in his walking:
The shining of his e'en surprise:
'Tis heav'n to hear him talking.

2. Last night I met him on a bawk,
Where yellow corn was growing,
There mony a kindly word he spake,
That set my heart a-glowing.
He kiss'd and vow'd he wad be mine,
And loo'd me best of ony:
That gars me like to sing sinsyne,
"O corn riggs are bonny."

Ludwig van Beethoven

Schottische Lieder, op. 108

Sunset (Walter Scott)

1. The sun upon the weirdlaw hill,
in Ettrick's vale is sinking sweet:
The westland wind is hush and still,
the lake lies sleeping at my feet.
Yet not the landscape to mine eye
bears those bright hues that once it bore;
tho' Ev'ning, with her rochest dye,
flames o'er the hills on Ettrick's shore.

3. Alas, the warp'd and broken board,
how can it bear the painter's dye?
The harp of strain'd and tuneless cord,
how to the minstrel's skill reply?
To aching eyes each landscape lowers,
to feverish pulse each gale blows chill:
and Araby's or Eden's bowers,
were barren as this moorland hill.


The Shepherd's Song (Joanna Baillie)

1. The gowan glitters on the sward,
the lavrock's in the sky,
and Colley on my plaid keeps ward,
and time is passing by.
Oh no! sad and slow! I hear nae welcome sound!
the shadow of our trysting bush, it wears so slowly round!

2. My sheepbell tinkles frae the west,
my lambs are bleating near,
but still the sound that I lo'e best,
alack! I canna hear.
Oh no! sad and slow! The shadow lingers still,
and like a lanely ghaist I stand and croon upon the hill.

Jeanie's Distress (William Smyth)

1. By William late offended,
I blam'd him, I allow
and then my anger ended,
and he is angry now.
And I in turn am chided
for what I ne'er designed;
and tho' by love misguided,
am call'd myself unkind.

3. Nor at the kirk perceive him,
but ponder on my book;
with downcast eyes deceive him,
tho' stealing oft a look.
Alas! how long must nature
this cruel war maintain?
content in every feature,
while writhes my heart with pain?

4. O William, dost thou love me?
Oh! sure I need not fear;
how, dearest, would it move thee
to see this falling tear!
Too heedless, thoughtless lover,
from what thyself must feel,
why canst thou nut discover,
what Jeanie must conceal?

The lovely lass of Inverness (Robert Burns)

1. The lovely lass of Inverness,
nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
for e'en and morn she cries, alas!
and ay the salt tear blinds her e'e:
Drumossie muir, Drumossie day,
awaefu' day it was to me;
for there I lost my father dear,
my father dear, and brothers three!

2. Their windingsheet the bluidy clay,
their graves are growing green to see;
and by them lies the dearest lad
that ever blest a woman's e'e!
Now wae to see, thou cruel lord!
A bluidy man I trow thou be;
fo mony a heart thou hast made sair,
that ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.

The sweetest lad was Jamie (William Smyth)

1. The sweetest lad was Jamie,
the sweetest, the dearest,
and well did Jamie love me,
and not a fault has he.
Yet one he had, it spoke his praise,
he knew not woman's wish to teaze,
he knew not all our silly ways,
alas! the woe to me!

4. Oh! knew he how I loved him,
sincerely and dearly;
how I would fly to meet him!
Oh! happy were the day!
Some kind, kind fried, oh, come between,
and tell him of my altered mien!
That Jeanie has not Jeanie been
since Jamie went away.

Behold my love how green the groves (Robert Burns)

1. Behold my love how green the groves,
the primrose bankshow fair,
the balmy gales awake the flow'rs
and wave the flaxen hair.
The lavrock shuns the palace gay
and o'er the cottage sings
for nature smiles as sweet
I ween to Shepherds as to kings.

2. Let Minstrels sweep the skilful string,
in lordly lighted ha';
the Shepherd stops his simple reed
blythe in the birken shaw.
The princely revel may survey
our rusty dance wi' scorn;
but are their hearts as light
as ours beneath the milk white thorn?

3. The Shepherd in the flow'ry glen
in Shepherd's phrase will woo;
the Courtier tells a finer tale,
but is the heart as true?
these wild wood flow'rs I've pull'd
to deck that spotless breast o' thine:
the Courtiers gem may witness love
but 'tis na love like mine!

Faithfu' Johny

1. When will you come again, my faithfu' Johny, when will you come again?
When the corn is gathered
and the leaves are withered,
I will come again, my sweet and bonny, I will come again.

2. Then winters wind will blow, my faithfu' Johny, the winters wind will blow:
Though the day be dark wi' drift,
that I cannot see the lift,
I will come again, my sweet and bonny, I will come again.

3. Then will you meet me here, my faithfu' Johny, then will you meet me here?
Though the night were hallowe'en
when the fearfu' sights are seen,
I would meet thee here, my sweet and bonny, I would meet thee here.

Oh! thou art the lad of my heart, Willy (William Smyth)

1. Oh! thou art the lad of my heart, Willy,
there's love and life, and glee,
there's cheer in thy voice and thy bounding step,
and there's bliss in thy bly the some ee.
But, oh, how my heart was tried, Willy,
for little I thought to see,
that the lad who won the lasses all,
would ever be won by me.

3. Ah vows so soft thy vows, Willy!
who would not, like me, be proud!
Sweet lark! with thy soaring echoing seng,
come down from thy rosy cload.
Come down to thy nest, and tell thy mate,
but tell thy mate alone,
thou hast seen a maid, whose heart of love is merry
and light as thine own.

Again my Lyre (William Smyth)

1. Again my Lyre, yet once again,
with tears I wake thy thrilling strain!
O sounds to sacred sorrow dear,
I weep, but could for ever hear!
Ah! Cease! nor mor past scenes recall,
ye plaintive notes! though dying fall!
For lost, beneath thy lov'd control,
sweet Lyre! is my dissolving soul.

2. Around me airy forms appear,
and Seraph songs are in mine ear!
Ye spirits blest, oh bear away
to happier realms my humble lay!
For still my love may deign to hear
those human notes, that once were dear!
And still one angel sigh bestow
on her who weeps, who mourns below.

Aus: 26 walisische Lieder, WoO 155

The Chase of the Wolf

1. Hear the shouts of Evan's son!
See the gallant chase begun!
Lo the deer afrighted run
Up the mountain's side.
Hear the shouts of Evan's son!
See the gallant chase begun!
Lo the deer afrighted run
Up the mountain's side.
Check your speed, you timotous deer,
Safely rest and cease your fear,
or boldly on your cliffs appear
and bear your antler's high!
Deep through yonder tangling wood,
See the fellon wolf pursued,
Straining hard and streaming blood,
Sion's hound are nigh!

2. See the woodland savage grim,
Boney, gaunt and large of limb,
furious plunge, and fearless swim
o'r the water wide.
See the woodland savage grim,
Boney, gaunt and large of limb,
furious plunge, and fearless swim
o'r the water wide.
Hear the woods resounding far,
Hark the distance don of war,
See th'impatient hunter dare
Conway's swelling tide.
Evan's son pursues the foe,
see his ardent visage glow!
Now he speeds the mortal blow,
See the savage die!

Aus: Lieder verschiedener Völker, WoO 158

Tyroler Lied: Wer solche Buema aufipackt

Wer solche Buema aufipackt, die steckt ma auf an Hut,
a Bua, der kani Federn tragt, der hat ka Feur im Blut.
Drum denk an den Tyroler Bua, und halt dein weite Goschen zu,
Wer solche Buema aufipackt, die steckt ma auf an Hut,
a Bua, der kani Federn tragt, der hat ka Feur im Blut,
der hat ka Feur im Blut, der hat ka Feur im Blut.

Tyroler Lied: Ih mag di net nehma, du töppeter Hecht

1. Ih mag di net nehma, du töppeter Hecht
du darfst mir nit komma, do warst mir viel z'schlecht,
du töppeter Hecht du darfst mir nit komma, do warst mir viel z'schlecht;
und du wills mein Mann sein, du städtischer Aff,
du Aff, was fallt die nit no ein, du törischer Laff,
nit no ein, du törischer Laff, was fallt die nit no ein, du törischer Laff.

2. Du talketer Jodl, z'was brauchest a Weib,
du hast ja a Sodel, koan Saft mehr im Leib,
z'was brauchest a Weib, du hast ja a Sodel, koan Saft mehr im Leib;
bist um und um rogli, bist süss wie a Brue, wie a Brue,
und süss wie a Vogel, was tat a Weib mit dir,
wie a Vogel, was tat a Weib mit dir, wie a Vogel, was tat a Weib mit dir.

3. Der Tölpel von Passau ist dein Contrase
du kierst wie a Spansau jetzt heb di und geh,
ist dein Contrase du kierst wie a Spansau jetzt heb di und geh;
hör auf mit dein raunzen, das sag ich die frue, ja frue,
i steck dir a Faunzen, du talketer Bue,
a Faunzen, du talketer Bue,
i steck dir a Faunzen, du talketer Bue.