I stood darkly dreaming
And stared at her picture,
And that beloved face
Sprang mysteriously to life.
About her lips
A wondrous smile played,
And as with sad tears,
Her eyes gleamed.
And my tears flowed
Down my cheeks,
And ah, I cannot believe
That I have lost you!
They loved one another, but neither
Wished to tell the other;
They gave each other such hostile looks,
Yet nearly died of love.
In the end they parted and saw
Each other but rarely in dreams.
They died so long ago
And hardly knew it themselves.
Love, as a nightingale,
Perched on a rosebush and sang;
The wondrous sound floated
Along the green forest.
And as it sounded, there arose a scent
From a thousand calyxes,
And all the treetops rustled softly,
And the breeze moved softer still;
The brooks fell silent, barely
Having babbled from the heights,
The fawns stood as if in a dream
And listened to the sound.
Brighter, and ever brighter
The sun shone on the scene,
And poured its red glow
Over flowers, forest and glen.
But I made my way along the path
And also heard the sound.
Ah! all that I’ve sung since that hour
Was merely its echo.
The moon rises silently
With its golden glow.
The weary earth then falls asleep
In beauty and splendour.
Many thousand loving thoughts
From many faithful minds
Sway on the breezes
Over those who slumber.
And down in the valley
The windows sparkle of my beloved’s house;
But I in the darkness gaze
Silently out into the world.
I saw in your eyes
The ray of eternal love,
I saw on your cheeks
The roses of heaven.
And as the ray dies in your eyes,
And as the roses scatter,
Their reflection, forever new,
Has remained in my heart,
And never will I look at your cheeks,
And never will I gaze into your eyes,
And not see the glow of roses,
And the ray of love.
The silent lotus flower
Rises out of the blue lake,
Its leaves glitter and glow,
Its cup is as white as snow.
The moon then pours from heaven
All its golden light,
Pours all its rays
Into the lotus flower’s bosom.
In the water, round the flower,
A white swan circles,
It sings so sweetly, so quietly,
And gazes on the flower.
It sings so sweetly, so quietly,
And wishes to die as it sings.
O flower, white flower,
Can you fathom the song?