Bathed in golden evening light
how solemnly the forests stand!
In the quiet voices of the birds,
the evening wind breathes a gentle breeze.
Why do the winds and the little birds lisp?
They lisp the world to sleep.
You wishes that are always moving
In your hearts there is rest and peace!
You sinew that moves the breast,
When do you rest, when do you slumber?
At the lisp of the winds of the little birds
You longing wishes, when do you fall asleep?
Ah, when my spirit no longer rushes to the golden distances on the feathers of dreams,
no longer dwells on eternally distant stars
my eye gazes longingly,
then they lisp Wind, the little birds
with my longing my life.

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