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Des Knaben Wunderhorn – Revelge (Reveille)

Listening Guide

The Work

Key: D minor/major with various modulations
Tempo: Marschierend. In einem fort (In march tempo, without interruption).
Time signature: 4/4
Rhythm: march tempo
Form: strophic (AA’-BB’-CD-AA)

Des Morgens zwischen drei’n und vieren,
da müssen wir Soldaten marschieren,
das Gässlein auf und ab,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
mein Schätzel sieht herab!

Ach, Bruder, jetzt bin ich geschossen,
die Kugel hat mich schwere schwer getroffen;
trag’ mich in mein Quartier,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
es ist nicht weit con hier!

Ach, Bruder, ich kann dich nicht tragen,
die Feinde haben uns geschlagen;
helf’ dir der liebe Gott,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
ich muss marschieren bis in Tod!

Ach, Brüder, Ach, Brüder,
ihr geht ja mir vorüber,
als wär’s mit mir vorbei!
Tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
ihr tretet mir zur nah!
Ich muss wohl meine Trommel rühren,
sonst werd’ ich mich verlieren,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-la!
Die Brüder, dick gesät,
sie liegen wie gemäht.

Er schlägt die trommel auf und nieder,
er wecket seine stillen Brüder;
sie schlagen und sie schlagen ihren Feind,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-le-ral-la-la,
ein Schrecken schlägt den Feind!

Er schlägt die Trommel auf und neider,
da sind sie vor dem Nactquartier schon wieder;
ins Gässlein hell hinaus,
Tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera!
sie zieh’n vor Schätzleins Haus,

Des Morgens stehen da die Gebeine,
in Reih’ und Glied sie steh’n wie Leichensteine;
dass sie ihn sehen kann!
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
die Trommel steht voran!

At break of day, between three and four,
we soldiers must march,
up and down the little path,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
my sweetheart sees me pass!

Oh, brother, are you still deaf to my pleading,
a bullet has pierced me deeply;
help me to my camp,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
it is not far from here!

Ah, brother, I cannot take you there,
the enemy has defeated us;
God help you,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
I must march on in the face of death!

Ah, brothers, ah, brothers,
you pass by me,
as if I it were already over for me!
Tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
you tread on me as you go by!
I must rise and make my drum rattle,
and call our troops to battle,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-la!
My brothers, all around,
lay.

He strikes the drum far and wide,
he wakens his death brothers;
they beat and beat their foe,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-le-ral-la-la,
terror strikes the foe!

He strikes the drum far and wide,
the dead have now returned to camp, victorious;
he leads them through the little path,
to see his sweetheart’s house,
Tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera!

At daybreak the skeletons gather,
in rank and file they cluster by the tombstone;
the drummer goes in front,
tral-la-li, tral-la-ley, tral-la-lera,
so that she can see him!

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