Premier Auctions
Sat, May 16, 2020 09:00AM EDT
Lot 1047
Hans Zatzka
Estimate: $3,000 - $6,000
Bid Increments
| Price | Bid Increment |
|---|---|
| $0 | $25 |
| $100 | $50 |
| $1,000 | $100 |
| $2,000 | $200 |
| $3,000 | $250 |
| $5,000 | $500 |
| $10,000 | $1,000 |
| $20,000 | $2,000 |
| $50,000 | $5,000 |
| $100,000 | $10,000 |
(Austrian, 1859-1945)Des Madchens Klage (The Maidens's Lament), after a poetic composition by Friedrich Schiller, signed lower right "H. Zatzka", oil on canvas, 21 x 16-1/2; Deco Style stylized line fold frame, 25-3/8 x 24-5/8 in.Note: The Maiden's Lament by Friederich SchillerThe clouds are flitting, the oakwood roars,˜The maid is sitting upon green shores, The waves they are breaking with might, with might, And she sighs out into the sombre night, Her eyes are from crying grown turbid. "The heart is now deadened, devoids the world,˜ And ne'er again be my wishes fulfilled. Thou holy one, summon thy child back home, For I have the fortune terrestrial known, For I have full lived and have loved !"The tears running down do in vain their course take, Lamenting, 'twill never the dead one awake; Yet name it, what comforts and healeth the breast, After sweetest love all its pleasure has lost, I, the heavenly, won't be denying."Let run down the teardrops in vain do they break, The dead one lamenting 'twill never awake!˜ The sweetest of balms for the sorrowful breast, After beautiful love all its pleasure has lost,˜ Are but love's lamenting and sighing."-translation by Marianna Wertz˜Provenance: Private Florida CollectionNote: The Maiden's Lament by Friederich SchillerThe clouds are flitting, the oakwood roars, The maid is sitting upon green shores, The waves they are breaking with might, with might, And she sighs out into the sombre night, Her eyes are from crying grown turbid. "The heart is now deadened, devoids the world,˜ And ne'er again be my wishes fulfilled. Thou holy one, summon thy child back home, For I have the fortune terrestrial known, For I have full lived and have loved !"The tears running down do in vain their course take, Lamenting, 'twill never the dead one awake; Yet name it, what comforts and healeth the breast, After sweetest love all its pleasure has lost, I, the heavenly, won't be denying."Let run down the teardrops in vain do they break, The dead one lamenting 'twill never awake!˜ The sweetest of balms for the sorrowful breast, After beautiful love all its pleasure has lost,˜ Are but love's lamenting and sighing."-translation by Marianna Wertz˜
lined, crackle cupping and cleavage lower right and bottom middle vertically
