Es rauschen die Wipfel und schauern,
Als machten zu dieser Stund
Um die halbversunkenen Mauern
Die alten Götter die Rund.
Hier hinter den Myrtenbäumen
In heimlich dämmernder Pracht,
Was sprichst du wirr wie in Träumen
Zu mir, phantastische Nacht?
Es funkeln auf mich alle Sterne
Mit glühendem Liebesblick,
Es redet trunken die Ferne
Wie vom künftigem, großem Glück.
The treetops are rustling and sighing,
As though at the lonely hour
All the ancient gods were assembling
Within some ruined old tower.
Here deep in the branching myrtles,
Where the moon doth shed her light,
What dreams ye bring to my spirit,
Fantastic forms of night!
The stars all around me are glowing,
Bright eyes of the realms of love,
Of future joy they are telling,
In far distant lands above.
The program quickly shifts moods with Fanny Hensel’s Schöne Fremde, a whimsical German part-song that details the dark beauty of the nighttime. This piece provides just a taste of Hensel’s incredible and diverse choral output.