(text W. von der Vogelweide, trans. M. Hinsley)
I sat upon a stone,
and crossed my legs,
Upon them I put my elbow:
I had my chin and one of my
cheeks nestled in my hand.
There I thought to myself,
afraid,
how one should live in the
world.
No advice could I give,
about how one could gain
three things,
so that none are destroyed.
Two are honor and good
fortune,
but harm goes from each to
the other:
The third is god’s favor,
more precious than the other
two.
I would gladly wish them in
one shrine,
but unfortunately the desire
cannot be:
that wealth and worldly
honor,
and God’s favor could come
together in one heart.
Paths and roads are to them
unknown,
unfaithfulness is in the
way.
Violence travels on the
roads,
peace and justice are
wounded.
The three [honor, good
fortune, God’s favor] have no guards,
Until the two [peace and
justice] are healthy.
He came, on the day that our
king was born,
by a woman who he had chosen
as his mother,
the handsome King Philippus
to Magdeburg.
There went a Kaiser’s
brother and a Kaiser’s son,
in one robe, how there are
three names:
he took the righteous
scepter and the crown.
He stepped very slowly, he
was not rushed:
after him went a high-born
queen.
A rose without a thorn,
A dove without gall.
The people were nowhere
else:
the Thuringians and the
Saxons served there.
That must have pleased the
wise men well.
Ah, how Christianly the pope
laughs,
as he says his Roman
thoughts.
“I have made it thus…”
What he says there, he
should never have even thought,
he says:
“I have brought two
Germans under a single crown,
that they may ruin and
squander the kindom.
Meanwhile, we are always
filling our coffers:
I have forced them with my
staff,
their wealth is all mine:
their German silver flows
into my Roman Shrine.
You priests eat chicken and
drink wine,
and let the German laymen
starve and fast.
Mighty God you are so tall
you are so broad:
We thought that our work was
not wasted!
You are both unfathomable
might and eternity.
I know well that another
strives for the same:
So it is, as it always was
our thoughts unprepared.
You are too great you are
too the small, it is regardless:
Stupid man, who spends days
and nights on this.
Does he want to know that he
was never prayed for or prayerful?
Great One,
Take both to you:
manly woman, womanly man:
priestly knight, knightly
priest.
With them you should
accomplish your will.
I want to give you all of
them as tax,
and old young noblemen for
your own.
I want to show you the young
old noblemen,
that they help you to live
your backwards life.
It is true, Reinmar,
I am much more sorry for you
than you would be for me,
had you lived and I died.
I want on my honor to say,
that I do not so much bemoan
your loss:
as I bemoan your noble art,
that it is dead.
You knew all the world
increasing joy,
So you wanted to turn it to
good things.
I miss your eloquent speech,
and your much sweeter song,
that they have died during
my time.
That you did not want to
wait a while!
So I could provide you with
company:
I will not sing much longer.
Your soul must fare well,
and I have your tongue to
thank.
I should say: Welcome
I am your newsbringer.
All that you have heard,
is merely a wind: now ask me
I want, however, payment:
if the reward to me is good,
I might tell you something
that makes you calm.
See what one offers honor to
me.
I say to German women that
they all the more,
are pleased with all the
world:
without great payment I do
this.
What do I want for reward?
They are too high to me.
So I am accommodating,
And ask them nothing more
than that they greet me
nicely.
I have seen many lands and
happily observed the best:
Evil must befall me,
If I could ever bring my
heart,
To be pleased,
with foreign customs.
Now what would help me if I
wrongly dispute?
German people go before all
others.
From the Elbe to the Rhine
And here again as far as to
Hungary,
May well be the best,
That I have known in the
world.
Can I truly behold,
Good tranquility and body.
It seems to me God, I swear,
That here the women are
better than all others.
Beloved young lady
God bestowed greatness upon
you
today and always
Could I possibly think more
of you,
had I willing courage.
What more should I say to
you?
Than that no one loves you
more than I?
That is why I have so much
pain.
They reprimand me that I
sing my song so low.
They do not think themselves
what love is,
for it they have no
gratitude!
They never encountered love.
Those who lust after wealth
and beauty,
how does love grow for them?
With beauty often comes
hate:
No one should rush after
beauty.
Love does more for the
heart:
Beauty comes after love.
Love creates a beautiful
woman:
Beauty cannot do the same,
it never makes love’s
body.
I endure, how I endured,
and how I always will
endure.
You are beautiful and have
plenty;
what more do they want me to
say?
Whatever they say, I am in
love with you,
and I would take your glass
ring for a queen’s gold.
“Take this wreath, my
lady”
so I spoke once to a pretty
woman.
So she graced the dance,
wearing the beautiful
flowers upon her.
If I had many noble gems,
I would place them upon your
head.
If she believes me,
sees my truth in me:
“You are so handsome
that I will gladly give you
my wreath
the best of all I had”
Whiter and redder flowers I
know well
They stand together in that
heath
There beauty springs forth
and the birds sing
We should both pick them
there.
She took what I gave her for
her head,
With the same honor of a
child.
Her cheeks became red,
Like the rose, that stands
by the lily.
Then she cast down her clear
eyes:
Then she bowed to me
beautifully.
That was a gift to me
Will there be still more,
That I carry in secret?
It seemed to me that never
sweeter was my heart.
The flowers fell from the
trees,
around us below in the
grass.
See, then I had to laugh for
joy.
Then I, so blissful, am
reached in a dream,
It is day, and I must awake.
Under the linden tree of the
heath
There was our bed,
There might I find
both picked flowers and
grass.
Before the forest, in a
valley,
Tandaradei,
Beautiful song of the
nightingale.
I came walking to the
meadow:
There had my love come
before me.
How I was greeted, holy
mother!
That I am happy ever more.
Was I kissed?
For at least a thousand
hours:
Tandaradei,
See how red my mouth is.
There had he made, rich with
flowers, a bed.
There he will still laugh
sincerely,
Each who comes on the same
path.
By the roses, well he may
Tanderadei,
Mark where my head laid
That he lay by me, should
anyone know
(god forbid) I would be so
ashamed.
What he did with me,
Never anyone will find,
Just he and I, and a little
bird
And he won’t tell.
Tandaradei.