Schumann: Liederkreis op. 39 - Wehmut (Melancholy)

Author: Evgenia Fölsche

“Wehmut” (opening: “Ich kann wohl manchmal singen”) is Song No. 9 from Robert Schumann’s cycle Liederkreis op. 39 after Joseph von Eichendorff. Behind apparently simple strophic form lies a poetic paradox: public singing — and yet “secret tears” that set the heart free. Schumann answers with spare, homophonic clarity that places the word in the foreground, and only in the postlude quietly unfolds the colour of “deep sorrow.”

The Poem (Joseph von Eichendorff)

From: Poems

Ich kann wohl manchmal singen,
Als ob ich fröhlich sei,
Doch heimlich Tränen dringen,
Da wird das Herz mir frei.

Es lassen Nachtigallen,
Spielt draußen Frühlingsluft,
Der Sehnsucht Lied erschallen
Aus ihres Kerkers Gruft.

Da lauschen alle Herzen,
Und alles ist erfreut,
Doch keiner fühlt die Schmerzen,
Im Lied das tiefe Leid.

Work Data & Overview

  • Composer: Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
  • Cycle: Liederkreis op. 39 (Eichendorff), No. 9
  • Text source: Joseph von Eichendorff (1788–1857)
  • Origin (composition): May 1840 (year of song); first published 1842
  • Tonal space / notation: simple, homophonic writing; few digressions, chromatic darkening in the postlude
  • Tempo indications: Calm, simple; breath shaped by the flow of speech
  • Duration: approx. 1½–2 minutes; intimate confessional miniature
  • Scoring: voice (various ranges) and piano
  • Form: strophic (3 stanzas) with delicate variation; eloquent postlude

Data on the poem

  • Poet: Joseph von Eichendorff
  • Stanza form: 3 stanzas of 4 lines each
  • Rhyme scheme: cross rhyme (ABAB)
  • Devices: paradox (public singing / secret tears), allegory (nightingale / prison), mirror of the audience (“all hearts … delighted”)

Origins & Contexts

“Wehmut” stands in the cycle after In der Fremde (2) (No. 8) and before Zwielicht (No. 10): from placeless night-hearing it leads into a personal confession before the threatening element closes in. Schumann reduces the means — a programmatic act of trust in word and line.

What is striking is the distance between public effect (“all … delighted”) and inner reality (“secret tears”) — a romantic image of the artist’s self that Schumann draws without operatic gesture.

Performance Practice & Reception

Sound idea: p–mp, text-centred line, simple cantabile; piano homophonic, with sparing pedal changes (clarity before “emotional fog”). Do not inflate the peaks of the stanzas — the truth lies in the postlude.

Reference Recordings (Selection)

  • Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau – Christoph Eschenbach
  • Elly Ameling – Dalton Baldwin
  • Christian Gerhaher – Gerold Huber
  • Ian Bostridge – Julius Drake
  • Matthias Goerne – Christoph Eschenbach

Analysis – Music

Homophonic & Text-led

The accompaniment supports the syllables — no garlands, no glitter. The voice remains close to speech; micro-dynamics on key words (“heimlich,” “frei,” “Kerker”) replace broad emphasis.

Strophic Form, Postlude & Colour of Sorrow

Stanza 1 states the paradox (singing / tears); stanza 2 turns it into allegory (nightingale in the “prison”); stanza 3 mirrors the gap between audience and self. The postlude condenses the meaning: often a chromatic sinking in the bass — a tonal “exhalation” that marks the unspoken sorrow.

Visual Representation

Artistic visualisation by Evgenia Fölsche:
In a quiet room, a singer stands at the open window.

The light in the room is muted, while outside spring fills the night.

In the branches before the window sit nightingales. Their song sounds light and free into the warm spring air.

The singer, however, remains alone with his thoughts. Although his voice outwardly sounds like a joyful song, the tears on his face reveal the hidden truth.

The image takes up the inner contradiction of the poem: a song that radiates beauty and joy yet at the same time carries a hidden sorrow within.

Eichendorff compares the singer to the nightingale, whose song is admired by all, although it sounds forth from a “prison vault” of longing.

Schumann, too, shapes the music with deliberate simplicity. The accompaniment remains calm and restrained, so that the expression of the voice can unfold directly.

Thus there arises a song of quiet melancholy — a singing that offers outwardly beauty and consolation while inwardly it is borne by pain and longing.

Analysis – Poetry

“Wehmut” is one of the most self-reflective poems of the cycle. It thematises singing itself — and reveals the tension between outward sound and inward pain. Art appears as a double-edged expression: it conceals — and liberates at the same time.

Stanza 1 – Mask and liberation

Ich kann wohl manchmal singen,
Als ob ich fröhlich sei,
Doch heimlich Tränen dringen,
Da wird das Herz mir frei.

The lyrical self describes a discrepancy: the singing sounds “as if I were joyful” — an appearance.

Yet tears well up “secretly.” Precisely in this hidden pain lies the actual truth.

Paradoxically, the heart is set free by suffering. Art becomes the outlet for inner distress.

Stanza 2 – The song from the prison

Es lassen Nachtigallen,
Spielt draußen Frühlingsluft,
Der Sehnsucht Lied erschallen
Aus ihres Kerkers Gruft.

The nightingale again stands as a symbol of song. Outside, spring air is playing — an atmosphere of renewal and joy.

But the “song of longing” rises out of a “prison vault.” The image joins imprisonment and grave.

Song thus springs not from freedom, but from inner captivity. Art is the echo of an enclosed soul.

Stanza 3 – Unperceived suffering

Da lauschen alle Herzen,
Und alles ist erfreut,
Doch keiner fühlt die Schmerzen,
Im Lied das tiefe Leid.

The audience listens — and is delighted. The outward effect is positive.

Yet what matters most goes unnoticed: “No one feels the pain.” The real suffering remains hidden behind aesthetic form.

Thus a bitter irony arises: the song is admired, but its origin is not understood.

Meaning & Effect within the Cycle

“Wehmut” is a poetic key text within Liederkreis op. 39. It reflects the role of the artist himself: singing does not mean expressing joy, but transforming pain.

The poem shows the romantic double structure of surface and depth. Outwardly, there is lightness; inwardly, longing dwells.

Schumann’s setting intensifies this ambivalence. The music seems simple and calm, almost consoling — and yet it carries a hidden weight.

Thus “Wehmut” becomes a musical confession: true art arises from suffering, even when it appears as beauty.

Evgenia Fölsche – Performances & Audio

Pianist Evgenia Fölsche shapes “Wehmut” as a concentrated confession: clear diction, slender middle register, and in the postlude a brief dark breath — nothing more.

Contact for concert/programme enquiries

Frequently Asked Questions about “Wehmut” (Liederkreis op. 39, No. 9)

Click on a question to show the answer.

Is this the original Eichendorff text?

Yes. It is the usual three-stanza version with the “nightingale / prison” image.

Why is the music so simple?

Schumann places the text and its paradox in the foreground; the homophonic simplicity makes the “secret” sorrow credible.

How loud and how fast?

Calm, simple; basic dynamic p–mp. No pathos climax — the statement lies in the postlude.

Interpretive tip?

Keep consonants clear and vowels rounded; really withdraw on “heimlich.” Change the pedal often — transparency before “emotional fog.”