Phonetic translation of foreign poem

I ran a poem written in a German book by Heinrich Heine through spell check on my word processor and tried to turn what it came up with into a poem. This was done in answer to a challenge on

Dear Taurus

All this we say on hearing,
have you the Beech Knave seen,
when he lies down to scherzo
Old Erich describes him sternly.

Middle of the valley, lute fashions
cooling sent from heaven stirs;
loving much in her, he likens
Mac’s sonnets to stroked ferns.

Oft the wild lark will startle
flutter in air, seeking not the world
lusting rays. When downs he settles,
Vogel sang for the ears of the earth.

That dear sang the very summit bald,
Taurus rushed bawdy and bleating,
when dear Taurus deems at Walden
to linger with such genial meeting


Notes: While the actuality of the following have nothing to do with why I chose to use these words, they do seem to play right into the meaning of the poem

Scherzo is a lively, playful piece of music,

Jaroslav Vogel is a composer/conductor

Walden is the name of the woods and pond where Thoreau stayed

Erich Korngold another composer


This is what the spell checker gave me:

Dear Traurige

Allen tut is we in Hurtin,
Die den beech Knave seen,
Dem die Leiden, deem die Scherzo
Auks Ericht gee scribe en stern.

Mitt lied vole Lute fashion
Kunlun seiner heaven Stern;
Lubing mocha INS Hers him lichen
Manchu sons so strode Darn.

Aus deem widen Lark dear Starter
Flutter err such nacho deem Wald.
Lusting rauschen Dort die Blotter,
Luster Vogel sang erschallt.

Dock dear Sang ver. summit baled,
Tausig rushed Baum und Blat,
and Winn dear Traurige deem Walden
Lingam such gigahertz hat.


In its original it was:

Der Traurige

Allen tut es weh im Herzen,
Die den bleichen Knaben sehn,
Dem die Leiden, dem die Schmerzen
Aufs Gesicht geschrieben stehn.

Mitleidvolle Lüfte fächeln
Kühlung seiner heißen Stirn;
Labung möcht ins Herz ihm lächeln
Manche sonst so spröde Dirn.

Aus dem wilden Lärm der Städter
Flüchtet er sich nach dem Wald.
Lustig rauschen dort die Blätter,
Lustger Vogelsang erschallt.

Doch der Sang verstummet balde,
Traurig rauschet Baum und Blatt,
Wenn der Traurige dem Walde
Langsam sich genähert hat.


Which translates roughly as:

The Sad
All it hurts is in your heart,
The boys see the pale,
The suffering, the pain,
Standing written on his face.

Fan piteous skies
Cooling his hot forehead;
Refreshment smile into his heart
Some otherwise demure maid.

From the wild noise of city dwellers
He flees to the forest.
Merry rustle the leaves there,
Joyous bird singing resounds.

But the song is soon mute,
Sadly rustles tree and leaf,
When the sad approach
Slowly into the forest

With thanks to Google translate for help with the last part of this post


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