Verklärte Nacht (Transfigured Night), Op. 4, is a string sextet in one movement composed by Arnold Schoenberg in 1899. Composed in just three weeks, it is considered his earliest important work. It was inspired by Richard Dehmel's poem of the same name, combined with the influence of Schoenberg's strong feelings upon meeting the sister of his teacher, Alexander von Zemlinsky (1877–1923), whom he married in 1901. The movement can be divided into five distinct sections which refer to the five stanzas of Dehmel's poem; however, there are no unified criteria regarding movement separation. Premiere The work was premiered on 18 March 1902 in the Vienna Musikverein by the Rosé Quartet with Arnold Rosé and Albert Bachrich (violins), Anton Ruzitska (viola), and Friedrich Buxbaum (cello), extended by Franz Jelinek (second Viola) and Franz Schmidt (second cello). The British premiere of the sextet was on 23 of January 1914 at the Bechstein Hall in the presence of the composer. It was played by the London String Quartet: Albert Sammons, Thomas Petre, Harry Waldo Warner and Warwick Evans, who were joined by James Lockyer on viola and Cedric Sharpe on cello. The string orchestra version had its premiere in the English city of Newcastle upon Tyne in December 1924, conducted by Schoenberg's champion and former student Edward Clark. Poem Dehmel's poem (from 1896) describes a man and woman walking through a dark forest on a moonlit night. The woman shares a dark secret with her new lover: she bears the child of another man. The stages of Dehmel's poem are reflected throughout the composition, beginning with the sadness of the woman's confession, a neutral interlude wherein the man reflects upon the confession, and a finale reflecting the man's bright acceptance (and forgiveness) of the woman: "O sieh, wie klar das Weltall schimmert! Es ist ein Glanz um alles her" (See how brightly the universe gleams! There is a radiance on everything). Zwei Menschen gehn durch kahlen, kalten Hain; der Mond läuft mit, sie schaun hinein. Der Mond läuft über hohe Eichen; kein Wölkchen trübt das Himmelslicht, in das die schwarzen Zacken reichen. Die Stimme eines Weibes spricht: "Ich trag ein Kind, und nit von Dir, ich geh in Sünde neben Dir. Ich hab mich schwer an mir vergangen. Ich glaubte nicht mehr an ein Glück und hatte doch ein schwer Verlangen nach Lebensinhalt, nach Mutterglück und Pflicht; da hab ich mich erfrecht, da