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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  Sword Song

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Sword Song

By Karl Theodor Körner (1791–1813)

Translation of Charles Timothy Brooks

SWORD, on my left side gleaming,

What means thy bright eye’s beaming?

It makes my spirit dance

To see thy friendly glance.

Hurrah!

“A valiant rider bears me;

A freeborn German wears me:

That makes my eye so bright;

That is the sword’s delight.”

Hurrah!

Yes, good sword, I am free,

And love thee heartily,

And clasp thee to my side

E’en as a plighted bride.

Hurrah!

“And I to thee, by Heaven,

My light steel life have given:

When shall the knot be tied?

When wilt thou take thy bride?”

Hurrah!

The trumpet’s solemn warning

Shall hail the bridal morning.

When cannon-thunders wake,

Then my true love I take.

Hurrah!

“Oh, blessed, blessed meeting!

My heart is wildly beating:

Come, bridegroom, come for me;

My garland waiteth thee.”

Hurrah!

Why, in the scabbard rattle,

So wild, so fierce for battle?

What means this restless glow?

My sword, why clatter so?

Hurrah!

“Well may thy prisoner rattle;

My spirit yearns for battle:

Rider, ’tis war’s wild glow

That makes me tremble so.”

Hurrah!

Stay in thy chamber near,

My love: what wilt thou here?

Still in thy chamber bide:

Soon, soon I take my bride.

Hurrah!

“Let me not longer wait:

Love’s garden blooms in state

With roses bloody-red,

And many a bright death-bed.”

Hurrah!

Now, then, come forth, my bride;

Come forth, thou rider’s pride!

Come out, my good sword, come,

Forth to thy father’s home!

Hurrah!

“Oh, in the field to prance

The glorious wedding dance!

How in the sun’s bright beams,

Bride-like the clear steel gleams!”

Hurrah!

Then forward, valiant fighters!

And forward, German riders!

And when the heart grows cold,

Let each his love enfold.

Hurrah!

Once on the left it hung,

And stolen glances flung;

Now clearly on your right

Doth God each fond bride plight.

Hurrah!

Then let your hot lips feel

That virgin cheek of steel;

One kiss—and woe betide

Him who forsakes the bride.

Hurrah!

Now let the loved one sing;

Now let the clear blade ring,

Till the bright sparks shall fly,

Heralds of victory!

Hurrah!

For hark! the trumpet’s warning

Proclaims the marriage morning:

It dawns in festal pride;

Hurrah, thou Iron Bride!

Hurrah!