Over the peaks the moon passes and hides in some cloud,
I dress myself and sit cold and run away with my longing.
Under the fir trees, under the groves, on the roads
The moon and its white rays shine and shine.
Only one is the dearest, after which I run from dawn
When I catch her and hold her in my arms, the Moon runs away into the clouds again.
Weary from so much running, like an hour on a cobblestone,
the moon reappears - fireflies swarm around me.
I immediately put on my wings and with fire I throw myself towards the stars
To catch the cold moon in its flight, to catch my loves.
Over the peaks the moon passes and hides in some cloud,
It covers me and sits cold and runs away with my longing .
The Moon Oâ閈都er Peaks
Oâ閈都er peaks the moon would glimmer, in a cloud at times adjourning
Shrouds me in its cold embrace then flies away and steals my yearning
Way below the crowns of firs, in the woods, across the meadows
Luna casts her pallid shimmers into ghosts and dancing shadows
One alone is dearest mistress, whom I chase without delay
When I'm close enough to hold her, in the clouds she runs away
Weary with relentless running, on yon boulder I seek rest
Yet the moon returns to show me swarming fireflies in jest
I haste to put on wings of fire and I dash towards the stars
Grasp the cold moon in her rising, hold my yearning in my arms
Or peaks the moon would glimmer, in a cloud at times adjourning
Shrouds me in its cold embrace then flies away and steals my yearning

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