Minnesongs
Still Sleeping, Handsome Knight
by Dietmar von Aist
‘Still sleeping, handsome knight?
Awake! Awake! Take flight!
A bird in all its finery
warns us from the linden tree.
‘I slept gently in your arm,
and now, sweetheart, you give the alarm;
but love must have its sorrow too,
what you command I’ll quickly do.’
The lady then began to moan,
‘You ride and leave me alone.
When will you ever return to me?
With you my joys and pleasures flee.’
Love has Commanded that I Should Sing
by Rudolf II
Love has commanded that I should sing,
and forbids me ever to complain,
though she no comfort nor hope may bring
that my song its fitting reward should gain.
She wishes that I should give my love away
where my devotion no heart can sway
and where faithfulness offers little as pay.
I strive to leave her service, but in vain.
This is my lot, that I cannot permit
my heart forever to renounce its claim.
It is my sorrow, that I’ve not the wit
to give up serving one who hates my name.
I’ll cherish her still, whatever may befall,
loyalty keeps me always in thrall,
and in spite of the fact that its wages are small.
Though she is vexed, I’ll love her just the same.
Untitled
By Heinrich von Morungen
It has gone with me as with a child
that saw its beautiful image in a mirror
and reached for its own reflection so
often till it broke the mirror to pieces;
then its contentment turned into a great unrest.
So I, once, thought I would live in continual joy
when I set my eyes on my beloved lady,
through whom, beside some pleasure, I have felt much pain.
Minne, who increases men’s joy -- look,
there, she brought me a lady by way of a dream,
where my body was turned toward sleep,
lost in the vision of its great contentment.
Then I gazed on all her nobleness, her shining image,
beautiful, exalted among women. Only,
it was just that there was some damage
to her small red mouth, that always laughed.
It frightened me
to see her small mouth pale, that was so red.
Now for this I have raised up new laments:
my heart stood ready for the grief it knew,
and I found this terror with my eyes --
like that child without experience
who found his own reflection in a spring
and had to love it till he died.
Heaven itself cannot contain
women higher in virtue and mind
than this good lady. I have been brought down,
I must stay far away and cleave to her forever.
O sorrow, how for a moment it could seem
I had reached and won her joyful, noble love.
Now here I stand, just starting out,
my contentment is gone, and my soaring dream.
Under the Linden Tree
by Walther von der Vogelweide
Under the linden tree
on the open field,
where we two had our bed,
you still can see
lovely broken
flowers and grass.
On the edge of the woods in a vale,
tandaradei,
sweetly sang the nightingale.
I came walking
to the meadow, my love already there.
And he received me,
Blessed Lady,
that the joy of that will last.
Did he kiss me then? A thousand times, at least,
tandaradei,
look now, how my mouth is red.
Then he made
a lordly
place to lie in, all of flowers.
There’s a good laugh there
even now
for anyone coming that way:
he could tell, by the roses,
tandaradei,
just where my head lay.
If anyone found out,
God forbid, he lay by me,
I’d be ashamed.
What he did with me there
may no one ever
know, except for him and me
and one little bird,
tandaradei,
which will not say a word.
I Sat Upon a Stone
by Walther von der Vogelweide
I sat upon a stone,
leg over leg was thrown,
upon my knee an elbow rested
and in my open hand was nested
my chin and half my cheek.
My thoughts were dark and bleak:
I wondered how a man should live,
to this no answer could I give.
Could man three things enjoy
and none the rest destroy?
The two are worldly wealth and fame,
which often bring each other shame;
the third is Heaven’s grace,
which takes the highest place.
I wish that I might have all three,
but it, alas, can never be
that one man’s heart should hold
both worldly fame and gold
and aught of Heaven’s favor, too.
No road will let them through
where treason would betray you
and naked force would slay you.
Peace and right are wounded sore;
the three have no protection till
the two are well and strong once more.
I Raised Myself a Falcon
by the Knight of Kürenberg
I raised myself a falcon, longer than a year.
I tamed and made him gentle, as I would have him be,
and wove among his feathers, slender golden strands,
he mounted up toward heaven, and flew to other lands.
I later saw the falcon, flying swift and strong,
and fastened to his talons, he wore a silken thong,
his wings and coat of feathers, gleamed with red and gold.
May God bring those together, who gladly would their lovers hold.