Ez klopfet under der Erden - It knocks beneath the Earth

[Verse 2]
Dô klopfet ez bî spâter nâht,
niht lût, niht snel, doch âne mâht;
ez dunket mich, als lebe noch
ieman in des grâbes loch.
Ich sprach: „Ez ist diu erde hie“,
doch mîn inwendec sprach mir nie.

[Verse 3]
Ez klopfet wider âne ruow,
dâ, swâ ich tôten begruow.
kein tier, kein holz, kein lôser stein
mag solch ein klagen brengen ein.
Ich stê vil lanch und hœre den wint,
doch swindet ez, als ez komen sint.

[Verse 4]
Dô gienc ich grübelnde ze bette,
der slâf mich niht umbevlechte;
mîn ougen zuo, mîn herze wach,
daz klopfen mit mir wachen sach.
„Ob ich ez lâze,“ dâhte ich dô,
„sô bin ich morder âne blô.“

[Verse 5]
Dô stuont ich ûf bî tiefer nâht,
kein lieht, kein vogel, niht erwacht;
die schûfel nam ich âne rât,
mîn fuoz mich z’ dem grâbe trât.
Ich wolte wizzen, waz dort lît,
ez koste mich, waz ez ouch gît.

[Verse 6]
Dô kam ich dar: dâz grâp was lêr,
diu erde brach, doch lîp was nêr;
man sach die spur, als wære krôchen
ieman ûz grabe ûf, zerbrochen.
Mîn atem stuont, mîn bluot wart kalt,
ich sach mich um bî vinster walt.

[Verse 7]
Dô schrîet man lût im dorfe dâ,
ein rûofen vol von zorn und â;
kein klopfen mê under der erd,
doch lebend klage ûf mînem herd.
Ich stê dâ mit der schûfel stum,
und weiz: ez ist ze spæte nû.

Translation:
[Verse 1]
I have buried the dead for many a year;
this earth’s smell is heavy, harsh, and rare.
I know full well the sound of dying,
when no prayer is spoken, no bell is ringing.
The graves I know — mute and cold;
the living have grown strange to me.

[Verse 2]
Then there came a knocking in the late night,
not loud, not quick, but weak;
it seemed to me as though still lived
someone within the grave’s hollow.
I said: “It is just the earth here moving,”
yet my inner voice never agreed.

[Verse 3]
It knocked again, without rest,
there where I buried the dead.
No beast, no wood, no loosened stone
could bring forth such a lament.
I stood long and listened to the wind,
yet it faded, as it had come.

[Verse 4]
Then I went pondering to my bed,
sleep did not enfold me;
my eyes closed, my heart awake —
the knocking kept watch with me.
“If I let it be,” I thought then,
“then I am a murderer by inaction.”

[Verse 5]
So I rose in the deep of night,
no light, no bird, nothing awake;
I took the shovel without second thought,
my feet carried me to the grave.
I wished to know what lay there,
whatever it might cost me.

[Verse 6]
When I came there, the grave was empty;
the earth was broken, yet no body lay.
I saw the trace, as though
someone had crawled out of the grave.
My breath stood still, my blood grew cold;
I looked about into the darkened wood.

[Verse 7]
Then people cried aloud in the village nearby,
a calling full of panic and fear;
no knocking more beneath the earth,
but living lament upon my home.
I stand there silent with the shovel,
and know: it is too late now.

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[Verse 1] Ich grabe tôten manic jâr, der erden rûch ist swer und râr; ich weiz vil wol, wie sterben klingt, swenn kein gebet, kein glocke singt. Diu grêbe kenn ich, stumm und kalt, diu lebenden sint mir vremde balt. [Verse 2] Dô klopfet ez bî spâter nâht, niht lût, niht snel, doch âne mâht; ez dunket mich, als lebe noch ieman in des grâbes loch. Ich sprach: „Ez ist diu erde hie“, doch mîn inwendec sprach mir nie. [Verse 3] Ez klopfet wider âne ruow, dâ, swâ ich tôten begruow. kein tier, kein holz, kein lôser stein mag solch ein klagen brengen ein. Ich stê vil lanch und hœre den wint, doch swindet ez, als ez komen sint. [Verse 4] Dô gienc ich grübelnde ze bette, der slâf mich niht umbevlechte; mîn ougen zuo, mîn herze wach, daz klopfen mit mir wachen sach. „Ob ich ez lâze,“ dâhte ich dô, „sô bin ich morder âne blô.“ [Verse 5] Dô stuont ich ûf bî tiefer nâht, kein lieht, kein vogel, niht erwacht; die schûfel nam ich âne rât, mîn fuoz mich z’ dem grâbe trât. Ich wolte wizzen, waz dort lît, ez koste mich, waz ez ouch gît. [Verse 6] Dô kam ich dar: dâz grâp was lêr, diu erde brach, doch lîp was nêr; man sach die spur, als wære krôchen ieman ûz grabe ûf, zerbrochen. Mîn atem stuont, mîn bluot wart kalt, ich sach mich um bî vinster walt. [Verse 7] Dô schrîet man lût im dorfe dâ, ein rûofen vol von zorn und â; kein klopfen mê under der erd, doch lebend klage ûf mînem herd. Ich stê dâ mit der schûfel stum, und weiz: ez ist ze spæte nû. Translation: [Verse 1] I have buried the dead for many a year; this earth’s smell is heavy, harsh, and rare. I know full well the sound of dying, when no prayer is spoken, no bell is ringing. The graves I know — mute and cold; the living have grown strange to me. [Verse 2] Then there came a knocking in the late night, not loud, not quick, but weak; it seemed to me as though still lived someone within the grave’s hollow. I said: “It is just the earth here moving,” yet my inner voice never agreed. [Verse 3] It knocked again, without rest, there where I buried the dead. No beast, no wood, no loosened stone could bring forth such a lament. I stood long and listened to the wind, yet it faded, as it had come. [Verse 4] Then I went pondering to my bed, sleep did not enfold me; my eyes closed, my heart awake — the knocking kept watch with me. “If I let it be,” I thought then, “then I am a murderer by inaction.” [Verse 5] So I rose in the deep of night, no light, no bird, nothing awake; I took the shovel without second thought, my feet carried me to the grave. I wished to know what lay there, whatever it might cost me. [Verse 6] When I came there, the grave was empty; the earth was broken, yet no body lay. I saw the trace, as though someone had crawled out of the grave. My breath stood still, my blood grew cold; I looked about into the darkened wood. [Verse 7] Then people cried aloud in the village nearby, a calling full of panic and fear; no knocking more beneath the earth, but living lament upon my home. I stand there silent with the shovel, and know: it is too late now.

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