Happy birthday Mahler.
The prisoner:
Thoughts are free,
who can guess them?
They rush past
like nocturnal shadows.
No man can know them,
no hunter can shoot them;
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free.
The maiden:
In summer it is good to be merry
on high, wild meadows,
where one finds a green little place;
my heart's beloved treasure,
I do not wish to part from you!
The prisoner:
And if they lock me up
in a dark dungeon,
it is all only
in vain that they try,
for my thoughts
rip apart the barriers
and break the walls in two:
thoughts are free!
The maiden:
In summer it is good to be merry
on high, wild mountains;
one is always alone there;
one hears no children shrieking,
and the air is so inviting.
The prisoner:
So may it be, just as it is;
and if it is proper,
may it be in silence;
[ And what gladdens my heart,]1
my wish and desire,
no one can restrain;
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free.
The maiden:
My darling, you sing so cheerfully here,
as if you were a bird in the grass;
and I stand so sadly by the dungeon door.
If only I were dead, or if only I were with you!
Alas! must I always lament?
The prisoner:
And because you lament so,
I will renounce love,
and if I dare,
then nothing will torment me.
So in my heart
I can always laugh and joke,
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free!
The prisoner:
Thoughts are free,
who can guess them?
They rush past
like nocturnal shadows.
No man can know them,
no hunter can shoot them;
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free.
The maiden:
In summer it is good to be merry
on high, wild meadows,
where one finds a green little place;
my heart's beloved treasure,
I do not wish to part from you!
The prisoner:
And if they lock me up
in a dark dungeon,
it is all only
in vain that they try,
for my thoughts
rip apart the barriers
and break the walls in two:
thoughts are free!
The maiden:
In summer it is good to be merry
on high, wild mountains;
one is always alone there;
one hears no children shrieking,
and the air is so inviting.
The prisoner:
So may it be, just as it is;
and if it is proper,
may it be in silence;
[ And what gladdens my heart,]1
my wish and desire,
no one can restrain;
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free.
The maiden:
My darling, you sing so cheerfully here,
as if you were a bird in the grass;
and I stand so sadly by the dungeon door.
If only I were dead, or if only I were with you!
Alas! must I always lament?
The prisoner:
And because you lament so,
I will renounce love,
and if I dare,
then nothing will torment me.
So in my heart
I can always laugh and joke,
for it remains thus:
thoughts are free!
