Johanna Ambrosius was a peasant woman born in 1854 into a poor craftsman's family
of 14 children in Lengwethen, East Prussia in the district of Tilsit. She married farmer
Friedrich Wilhelm Voigt from Titschken and spent most of her life toiling on a farm. She
had a daughter, Marie, who died in childbirth at age 32, and a son, Erich.. Her poems
were first published in 1884 and she sold them from house to house, included the poem
"My Country", later known as the East Prussia song. A major theme of her poetry was the
everyday country life in Large-Wersmeningken, her little village in the county Pillkallen in
which she and her husband moved to in July of 1883. To her surprise, she earned honors
for her touching, honest poetry from learned figures of the German literary and intellectual
scene and even drew attention from the Prussian royal family, who later built her a house.
of 14 children in Lengwethen, East Prussia in the district of Tilsit. She married farmer
Friedrich Wilhelm Voigt from Titschken and spent most of her life toiling on a farm. She
had a daughter, Marie, who died in childbirth at age 32, and a son, Erich.. Her poems
were first published in 1884 and she sold them from house to house, included the poem
"My Country", later known as the East Prussia song. A major theme of her poetry was the
everyday country life in Large-Wersmeningken, her little village in the county Pillkallen in
which she and her husband moved to in July of 1883. To her surprise, she earned honors
for her touching, honest poetry from learned figures of the German literary and intellectual
scene and even drew attention from the Prussian royal family, who later built her a house.
| Johanna Ambrosius Voigt |
Her husband died in 1900 at only 48 years old. Her own health was harmed during a severe influenza epidemic. She died
in 1908 following the sale of her beloved house and was buried in Konigsberg. Four of her great-grandsons and their
families were forced to flee from the Red Army as they stormed and stole East Prussia at the end of World War Two.
Her lovely, dear little village is now part of Russia and is, like most formerly German villages, very dilapidated, having only
about 20 houses from its German past.
in 1908 following the sale of her beloved house and was buried in Konigsberg. Four of her great-grandsons and their
families were forced to flee from the Red Army as they stormed and stole East Prussia at the end of World War Two.
Her lovely, dear little village is now part of Russia and is, like most formerly German villages, very dilapidated, having only
about 20 houses from its German past.
Sie sagen alle, du bist nicht schön,
Mein trautes Heimatland,
Du trägst nicht stolze Bergeshöh´n.
Nicht rebengrün´ Gewand,
In deinen Lüften rauscht kein Aar,
Es grüß kein Palmenbaum:
Doch glänzt der Vorzeit Träne klar
An deiner Küste Saum.
Und gibst dem König auch kein Erz,
Nicht Purpur, Diamant,
Klopft in dir doch das treue Herz
Fürs heil´ge Vaterland.
Zum Kampfe lieferst Du das Roß,
Wohl Tonnen Goldes wert,
Und Männer, stark zum Schlachtenroß,
Die kräft´ge Faust zum Schwert.
Mein trautes Heimatland,
Du trägst nicht stolze Bergeshöh´n.
Nicht rebengrün´ Gewand,
In deinen Lüften rauscht kein Aar,
Es grüß kein Palmenbaum:
Doch glänzt der Vorzeit Träne klar
An deiner Küste Saum.
Und gibst dem König auch kein Erz,
Nicht Purpur, Diamant,
Klopft in dir doch das treue Herz
Fürs heil´ge Vaterland.
Zum Kampfe lieferst Du das Roß,
Wohl Tonnen Goldes wert,
Und Männer, stark zum Schlachtenroß,
Die kräft´ge Faust zum Schwert.
Und wenn ich träumend dann durchgeh´
Die düstre Tannennacht
Und hoch die mächt´gen Eichen seh´
In königlicher Pracht,
Wenn rings erschallt am Memelstrand
Der Nachtigallen Lied
Und ob dem fernen Dünensand
Die weiße Möve zieht:
Dann überkommt mich solche Lust,
Daß ich´s nicht sagen kann,
Ich sing´ein Lied aus voller Brust,
Schlag froh die Saiten an.
Und trägst du auch nur schlicht´Gewand
Und keine stolzen Höh´n:
Ostpreußen, hoch! mein Heimatland,
Wie bist du wunderschön!
Die düstre Tannennacht
Und hoch die mächt´gen Eichen seh´
In königlicher Pracht,
Wenn rings erschallt am Memelstrand
Der Nachtigallen Lied
Und ob dem fernen Dünensand
Die weiße Möve zieht:
Dann überkommt mich solche Lust,
Daß ich´s nicht sagen kann,
Ich sing´ein Lied aus voller Brust,
Schlag froh die Saiten an.
Und trägst du auch nur schlicht´Gewand
Und keine stolzen Höh´n:
Ostpreußen, hoch! mein Heimatland,
Wie bist du wunderschön!
| 'Heimatland' by Johanna Ambrosius Voigt |