Walther von der Vogelweide (c. 1170 – c. 1230)
Paula Bär-Giese - soprano
Hans Meijer - lute


The Sängerkrieg (minstrel contest), also known as the Wartburgkrieg (Wartburg contest), was a contest among minstrels (Minnesänger) at the Wartburg, a castle in Thuringia, Germany, in 1207.
Walther von der Vogelweide (c. 1170 – c. 1230) was a Minnesänger who composed and performed love-songs and political songs ("Sprüche") in Middle High German. Walther has been described as the greatest German lyrical poet before Goethe; his hundred or so love-songs are widely regarded as the pinnacle of Minnesang, the medieval German love lyric, and his innovations breathed new life into the tradition of courtly love. He was also the first political poet to write in German, with a considerable body of encomium, satire, invective, and moralising.

His work was widely celebrated in his time and in succeeding generations—for the Meistersingers he was a songwriter to emulate—and this is reflected in the exceptional preservation of his work in 32 manuscripts from all parts of the High German area. The largest single collection is found in the Codex Manesse, which includes around 90% of his known songs. However, most Minnesang manuscripts preserve only the texts, and only a handful of Walther's melodies survive.

Ich saz uf eime steine (Reichsklage)
Ich saz ûf eime steine,
und dahte bein mit beine;
dar ûf satzt ich den ellenbogen;
ich hete in mîne hant gesmogen
daz kinne und ein mîn wange.
dô dâhte ich mir vil ange,
wie man zer werlte solte leben:
deheinen rât kond ich gegeben,
wie man driu dinc erwurbe,
der deheinez niht verdurbe.
diu zwei sint êre und varnde guot,
der ietwederz dem andern schaden tuot,
daz dritte ist gotes hulde,
der zweier übergulde.
die wolte ich gerne in einen schrîn.
jâ leider desn mac niht gesîn,
daz guot und werltlich êre
und gotes hulde mêre
zesamene in ein herze komen.
stîg unde wege sint în benomen:
untriuwe ist in der sâze,
gewalt vert ûf der strâze;
fride unde reht sint sêre wunt.
diu driu enhabent geleites niht,
diu zwei enwerden ê gesunt.

I sat upon a rock
and crossed my legs
and propped my elbow on my knee,
and cradled chin and cheek
inside my hand.
And pondered very seriously
how one should lead one’s life on earth.
There was no counsel I could give
how one could gain three things together
without destroying one or other.
Two are esteem and what we own,
which often do each other harm.
The third is God’s own grace,
worth so much more than both of them.
I’d like them in one chest, all three.
But sadly now, there is no way
that what we own, and honour from the world,
together with the grace of God,
can come and meet within a single heart.
The ways and means are barred to them.
Betrayal lies in ambush now
and violence roams the streets.
Peace and justice have the deepest wounds.
Until these two are first restored,
the other three will be without a guard.

1. Under der lindenan der heide,dâ unser zweier bette was,dâ muget ir vindenschône beidegebrochen bluomen unde gras.vor dem walde in einem tal,tandaradei,*schône sanc diu nahtegal.2. Ich kam gegangenzuo der ouwe:dô was mîn friedel komen ê.dâ wart ich empfangenhêre frouwedaz ich bin sælic iemer mê.kust er mich? wol tûsentstunt:tandaradei,seht wie rôt mir ist der munt.3. Dô hete er gemachetalsô rîchevon bluomen eine bettestat.des wirt noch gelachetinneclîche,kumt iemen an daz selbe pfat.bî den rôsen er wol mactandaradei,merken wâ mirz houbet lac.4. Daz er bî mir læge,wesse ez iemen(nu enwelle got!), so schamte ich mich.wes er mit mir pflæge,niemer niemenbevinde daz wan er und ichund ein kleinez vogellîn:tandaradei,daz mac wol getriuwe sîn.


1. Under the lime treeOn the heather,Where we had shared a place of rest,Still you may find there,Lovely together,Flowers crushed and grass down-pressed.Beside the forest in the vale,Tándaradéi,*Sweetly sang the nightingale.2. I came to meet himAt the green:There was my truelove come before.Such was I greeted —Heaven's Queen! —That I am glad for evermore.Had he kisses? A thousand some:Tándaradéi, See how red my mouth's become.3. There he had fashionedFor luxury A bed from every kind of flower.It sets to laughing DelightedlyWhoever comes upon that bower;By the roses well one may,Tándaradéi, Mark the spot my head once lay.4. If any knewHe lay with me (May God forbid!), for shame I'd die.What did he do?May none but heEver be sure of that — and I,And one extremely tiny bird,Tándaradéi, Who will, I think, not say a word.