Der stürmische Morgen
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Wie hat der Sturm zerrissen
Des Himmels graues Kleid!
Die Wolkenfetzen flattern
Umher im mattem Streit.
Und rothe Feuerflammen
Ziehn zwischen ihnen hin.
Das nenn' ich einen Morgen
So recht nach meinem Sinn!
Mein Herz sieht an dem Himmel
Gemahlt sein eignes Bild -
Es ist nichts als der Winter,
Der Winter kalt und wild!
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Der stürmische Morgen
Song information
- Composer
- Franz Schubert
- Poet
- Wilhelm Müller
- Original language
- German (de)
- Selected translation
- English (en)
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