I rather would be the most stupid person on earth than understanding your thinking.
you are in luck; one doesnt exclude the other
I love this song. In it he describes his negative experiences with the school system and most teachers - except a teacher named Charlotte, who even fought for him to give him his Abitur (high school diploma). This song is dedicated to this teacher. My experience wasnât that bad, but I also only had three good teacher worth that profession and in the last four years only one. His name was Peter Kach. He was demanding but always supportive and great. Even at night school comrades called him if there were problems with parents. When listening to this song, I always think of Peter. May he Rest In Peace. Bloody autocorrection.
English lyrics (sorry, but this translation is so bad, itâs not correctable. I stopped. I will search for a good translation after work):
Charlotte
I think after all these years
Iâll write to you once
The distance makes me see much clearer
And reveal myself to you
As Over the gloomy Valley
My joyless school days you were the only sun
They slugged me with audacity
- And cunning about it â
Through Trials, Transfers, Plots!
Forgive them, but out of gratitude
I allow myself the " you» â
I respectfully greet you, Charlotte!
I respectfully greet you, Charlotte!
To rob my little happiness
Did I ask for sympathy
Trampled to respect my teacher
But with the soles of nails
The pedagogy they have
Trampled on my childâs soul
And the little personality
Had they in a short period of time
As lively as a dead moth
And if take part in the cruelty
Is not completely broken â
Then that alone is your merit, Charlotte!
Then that alone is your merit, Charlotte!
I washed Dr. Lenzâs car
Got Mrs. drewâs bike cleaned
Voluntarily taken over the table service
Have worn the class book â
It has all been of no use
I never got away from the donkey bank
And all my teachers found
When School Leaving Examination was
That my level of Education scoffs at any description
"And I say, he passed!»
There was a voice, " clear?» â
And you were not contradicted, Charlotte!
You were not contradicted, Charlotte!
That the tree degree â to stand
And began to become tree
Of the steiĂtrommler unsubdued souls
That I walk upright today
And even can smile back
Despite the wickedness and humiliation
That I thank you, and to say that
Iâve been looking for âlongâ, but only now
Where I finally mothered the school days
Will I dare it again
And do with these lines! -
I think of you tenderly, Charlotte!
I think of you tenderly, Charlotte!
Apropos school memories. This poem by Goethe is great - but all students fear it because of itâs length and the knowledge that the day will come when the German teacher says the magic words: Memorize the whole poem tillâŠ
I post it under this thread because some guy made a song out of it. The result is really not bad.
The Sorcererâs Apprentice, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
a modern translation by Katrin Gygax (copyright 2013)
Now that the old sorcerer has left me on my own at last,
I can make his forces labor just exactly as I ask.
Iâve learned in this tower, all his words and spells,
With these mental powers, his art is mine as well.
Hurry, hurry, fetch the water, bring it quickly, come get going,
Fill the buckets and donât dawdle, fill the bath, we need it flowing!
So come on, you dry old broomstick! Wrap yourself in these old rags;
Servant is what you are, toothpick; Obey me now and do not lag!
Stand up here on two legs, screw a head on top,
Run down to the streamâs edge, with the water pot!
Hurry, hurry, fetch the water, bring it quickly, come get going,
Fill the buckets and donât dawdle, fill the bath, we need it flowing!
Look, itâs running to the river; see, itâs made it to the stream,
Like an arrow from a quiver, shooting its way straight to me.
There and back already, for the second time,
Filling buckets steadâly, as the water climbs!
Cease now! Cease now! Stand and heed me! Halt! Obey! I must be heard!
Oh now, what now, canât believe this! I donât know the magic word!
Just one word, to end this madness! Argh, itâs going to be my doom!
Endless water! Oh, what badness! Stop, please and just be a broom!
Nonstop it keeps hauling water from the stream,
Soon I will be crawling, drowned among the bream.
No, canât take this any longer; nasty creature! How deceitful!
Oh! This couldnât be much wronger! Ghastly features! Oh! Itâs evil!
Fie, you wicked spawn of Satan! Would you have the whole house drown?
Waterâs pouring down the stairwell, waterâs gushing all around!
Youâre a wicked broomstick, pretending not to hear!
Turn back into wood, imp, or Iâll teach you fear!
Will you not just cease your running? I must catch you, I must snatch you,
Though you may be fast and cunning, this sharp ax it will dispatch you.
Look, itâs back and still itâs hauling! I will thrash it now but good,
Soon, you goblin, youâll be slaughtered! Bulls-eye! Sliced into the wood.
Perfect! Right on target! Ha! Itâs now in two!
And now I can hope that this whole trial is through!
Worry! Worry! Two live pieces! This increases all my problems!
Help me please, oh higher powers; save me from these two new goblins!
Still theyâre running! Wet and wetter, down the steps, the waterâs falling.
How appalling, all this water! Lord and Master! Hear me calling!
Oh, here comes my master! Help me Lord, I plead!
Spirits I have conjured, no longer pay me heed.
Broomstick! Broomstick! To the corner, go now, Iâm the master here!
Spirits, spirits! When I need you, only then may you appear.
The more I listened to it, the more impressed I am with the musical setting of this poem. I totally love it.
Wow. this is another gorgeous musical setting of a classical poem every German student (at least of my generation) had to memorize. Itâs also from Goethe and called âDer Erlkönigâ, the sinister King of fairies. Itâs about a farmer who rode his very sick little boy in the night through the forest to the doctor. Suddenly the boy shouts in fear and tells his father that he sees the Erlkönig with his daughters and fairies following them. The Erlkönig calls and lures him with toys, sweets, promises and more. The father thinks his son speaks in feaver. When he finally arrives at his destination he realizes, that his son already has died in his arms.
The selfmade video transports the dark terror of this poem adequately. It gives me goosebumps. Very well done, lol.
I always loved poems with the old German language. Guess, thatâs where also my love for Shakespeare stems from. Itâs hard to choose a favourite from the three dubbed poems I posted yet. Depends on the mood. Right now, I would choose the last poem by HĂŒlshoff. I also love to listen to the singers angelic voice. Beautiful. But I like to switch between them and enjoy everyone of them greatly every time I hit the play button.
Another German gem. To my shame, I havenât heard neither of the author, Louise Franziska Aston, nor her poem. Just read her up on Wikipedia. I can so relate. But I doubt I would have been as brave as her. Only if I had the money, I wouldnât mind if most of society would look down on me. Real freedom is only possible for the rich. Given for the time she lived, she dared to be an Atheist, democrat and feminist. Wore male attire (no clue if she did that to visually express she considers her as an equal to men or if she was homosexual/transgender. But she was only and several times married to men till she died). She even served in the Freikorps during the war. (Freikorps - Wikipedia)
And kudos to especially her last husband. He made lots of sacrifices for her, because she was a democrat. He didnât give in and stayed with her. Following I took from Wikipedia:
âHer spouse had a wild rose carved upon her grave stone, and at his own, wrote, âThe one God gave a woman, was given a treasure.ââ[5]
Such things make me still believe in mankind. At least sometimes. Cause such great characters are rare in both men and women.
Anyway, in this poem she describes the plight of a young female weaver, whoâs father and fiancĂ©e dies and at the end has to make a decision to give in to the offer of a frabricant to become his mistress or to let her mother and younger sister end up even worse as they already are now.
Lied einer schlesischen Weberin von Louise Franziska Aston