Walther von der Vogelweide
Vogelweide, a poet and minnesinger(a singer of love songs), is one of the most celebrated of the Medievil German poets, the main sources of information about him are his own poems and occasional references by contemporary Minnesingers. It is clear from the title (Herr, Sir) given in these references, that he was of noble birth; but it is equally clear from his name Vogelweide (meaning: a gathering place or preserve of birds) that he belonged not to the higher nobility, who took their titles from castles or villages, but to the nobility of service.
Tirol appears to be his place of birth and had become a center of poetry and art. It was here that the young poet learned his craft ... more »
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Walther von der Vogelweide Poems
Under der linden
Under der linden an der heide, dâ unser zweier bette was, dâ muget ir vinden
Alas! Where Have All The Years Gone
Alas! Where have all the years gone? Did I dream my life, or is it real? What I always thought - was that something?
Excerpt From Dialogue With 'The World'
Too well thy weakness have I proved; Now would I leave thee; - it is time - Good night! to thee, oh world, good night!
A Mournful One Am I
A mournful one am I, above whose head A day of perfect bliss hath never past; Whatever joys my soul have ravished,
Ah! Where Are Hours Departed Fled? (exce...
Ah! where are hours departed fled? Is life a dream, or true indeed? Did all my heart hath fashioned From fancy's visitings proceed?
Chill Penury And Winter's Power
Chill penury and winter's power Upon my soul so hard have prest, That I would fain have seen no more The red flow'rs that the meadows drest:
'Lady,' I said, 'this garland wear! For thou wilt wear it gracefully; And on thy brow 'twill sit so fair, And thou wilt dance so light and free;
I've Got My Fief
I've got my fief, you world! A fief at last! I shall not fear the February blast, and petty barons can be flattered less.
When From The Sod The Flow'rets Spring
When from the sod the flow'rets spring, And smile to meet the sun's bright ray, When birds their sweetest carols sing
Under the lime tree
Under the lime tree On the heather, Where we had shared a place of rest, Still you may find there,
'Twas summer,-- through the opening grass The joyous flowers upsprang, The birds in all their different tribes Loud in the woodlands sang:
Address to Emperor Frederic II.
Fain (could it be) would I a home obtain, And warm me by a hearth-side of my own. Then, then, I'd sing about the sweet birds' strain,
Up, Then, Dance We To The Song
Up, then, dance we to the song, Care, for ever be thou gone! Firm at length shall be my step, High again my spirit leap!
Worthy Art Thou, Returning Home
Worthy art thou, returning home, the bell For thee should ring, and crowds come gathering round To gaze, how as a gladdening miracle
Comments about Walther von der Vogelweide
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Under der linden
Under der linden
an der heide,
dâ unser zweier bette was,
dâ muget ir vinden
gebrochen bluomen unde gras.
Vor dem walde in einem tal,
schône sanc diu nahtegal.
Ich kam gegangen
zuo der ouwe:
dô was mîn friedel komen ê.
Dâ wart ich empfangen
daz ich bin sælic iemer mê.
Kust er mich?
seht wie rôt mir ist der munt.
Dô hete er gemachet
von bluomen eine bettestat.
Des wirt noch gelachet
kumt iemen an daz ...