Babylon Berlin, the successful TV-series. In episode 4 of the first seasonwe see a corpse floating
in the Spree’s waters, under the bridges, among the barges.
A
melody, sweet and melancholy, sung by Marlene Dietrich. It's « Das ist Berlin »,, one of her most beautiful songs.
Marlene, born in the district of Schöneberg, was part of the Berlin of the 20s, an important part at that. Just think of "The Blue Angel" iconic movie of the era. But this recording is from 1964. When she sang "Lola Lola" she was 28 years old. When she attacks "Das ist Berlin" she is 63. Berlin is already her past, a distant past. "For us it's just memories," as she sings.
I could not verify if the lyrics or the music, are by her. In any case, I love this song, even if it has little to do with the Berlin of 1929, with the corpses of Trotskyists in the Spree, with the Armenian and his mafia of the Moka Efti, with Gereon Rath and Bruno Wolter. But it does mention Berlin’s cobblestones, those same stones that Helga, the friend of Gereon, calls "the hardest of the Reich".
The tone of this song reminds me of another one by Hildegard Knef, who some see as Marlene's successor: « Für mich, soll's rote Rosen regnen » (Roses will rain on me).
And here are the lyrics. It's my own translation, not necessarily very accurate. Corrections are welcome!
Marlene, born in the district of Schöneberg, was part of the Berlin of the 20s, an important part at that. Just think of "The Blue Angel" iconic movie of the era. But this recording is from 1964. When she sang "Lola Lola" she was 28 years old. When she attacks "Das ist Berlin" she is 63. Berlin is already her past, a distant past. "For us it's just memories," as she sings.
I could not verify if the lyrics or the music, are by her. In any case, I love this song, even if it has little to do with the Berlin of 1929, with the corpses of Trotskyists in the Spree, with the Armenian and his mafia of the Moka Efti, with Gereon Rath and Bruno Wolter. But it does mention Berlin’s cobblestones, those same stones that Helga, the friend of Gereon, calls "the hardest of the Reich".
The tone of this song reminds me of another one by Hildegard Knef, who some see as Marlene's successor: « Für mich, soll's rote Rosen regnen » (Roses will rain on me).
And here are the lyrics. It's my own translation, not necessarily very accurate. Corrections are welcome!
Berlin, this city has been so much sung
by people who today lie under the green grass
for us it's just memories
like the stories our mother told us
Some love it, some hate it.
That's Berlin, when she cries, when she laughs.
Berlin, Berlin, you are a hot cobblestone
Those who don’t know you, get their feet burnt,
Where morality dwells, vice lives as well,
And tears blossom, as the schmaltz does.
Berlin, Berlin, life is dangerous there,
if someone tumbles, no one turns around,
but if he falls well, he’s sure to get cheers
Berlin, Berlin, you are my public.
When mother sees her life running away
she hurries to add in her will:
"Do not forget me, and don’t forget to water dad"
It's Berlin, when she cries, it's Berlin when she laughs.
In
German :
Die Stadt Berlin hat mancher schon besungen,Der längst heute liegt tief unter grünem Gras.Für uns sind das bloß noch Erinnerungen,Als ob uns Muttern was aus Märchen las.
Der eine liebt sie, andre wieder lästern.Manches verging, was einstmals Staub gemacht.Doch manches ist noch heute so, wie gestern.Das ist Berlin, wie's weint, und wie es lacht.
Berlin, Berlin, Du bist ein heisses Pflaster,Wer Dich nicht kennt, verbrüht sich leicht den Fuß.Wo die Moral wohnt, wohnt auch gleich das LasterUnd der Verriss blüht neben süssem Schmuß.
Berlin, Berlin, hier lebt der Mensch gefährlich,und rutscht er aus, dann dreht sich keiner um.Doch haut er hin - dann ist der Beifall ehrlich.Berlin, Berlin, Du bist mein Publikum.
Berlin, Berlin, wenn deine Blumen spriessenDa draussen in der Laubenkolonie,Sieht man Dich stehn und fleissig sie begiessenDas Rosmarien und auch den Sellerie.
Fühlt Muttern ihre Lebenszeit verfliessen,Im Testament wird schnell noch angebracht:?Vergesst mir bloß nicht, Vatern zu begießen? - -Das ist Berlin, wie's weint, und wie es lacht.Das ist Berlin, wie's weint, und wie es lacht.
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