8 Richard Wagner - Akt 2 - Szene 4 - Blick' ich umher in diesem edlen Kreise - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Tungsten

Here before me I see a host of heroes:

This brilliance confuses my spirit and my eyes...

So many wise, strong, proud of glory, -

blooming, slender forest, mighty forest...

Wives shine with innocent charm -

a crown of fragrant young roses...

Contemplation intoxicates my eyes:

Having lowered them, the singer involuntarily fell silent. –

Among the bright stars, only inspired,

I look to the heights:

my dreams were lit with sacred fire

and they devoutly say a prayer to her...

And so, a wonderful spring opened up to me,

My spirit looks into it, melting delight:

in him I drew the joy of grace, -

and my soul is full of living strength...

I will never touch those bright streams,

I don’t dare to embarrass you with greedy desires:

for a pure key, an eternal source of happiness,

I'm every bit glad to shed my heart's blood! –

Heroes! There is no art in my words:

Here is the essence of love, holy feeling!

(He sits down)

Knights and ladies

(in a sympathetic movement)

You are right! You are right! Your song is beautiful!

Tannhäuser, as if awakening from a dream: the stamp of proud self-will on his face is replaced by an expression of delight - he directs his inspired gaze into space. The slight trembling of his hand, unconsciously plucking the strings of the harp, and the demonic smile on his lips show that an unknown spell is taking possession of him. When he, as if waking up, energetically strikes the strings, his whole appearance reveals that he is almost no longer aware of where he is, that he no longer thinks about Elizabeth.

Tannhäuser

Oh, Wolfram, in this languid song

you have distorted the law of love!

If only the world would timidly thirst,

Believe me, it would have dried up long ago!

Bowing before God, raise your eyes high, -

to the heavenly distance, to the stars of the secret night:

pray to these miracles, -

we will never comprehend them! –

But what is prone to touch,

then we are always drawn to ourselves;

that is born of the same flesh,

its soft shape clings to the body! –

Spring of blissful pleasures,

wishes, courage, rewards!

An inexhaustible source of joy,

how eternal is the passion in my chest!

Yes, so that the fire burns for me forever,

please me, stream! –

So know this, Wolfram, this is the essence

I see immortal love!

General amazement. Elizabeth’s face reflects a struggle of feelings - her admiration is mixed with timid surprise. – Biterolf gets up quickly and angrily.