Overnight there is a lifting and releasing,
In a secret manner,
There is a stirring in the dark lap of the earth,
Quietly, quietly.

Through the meadows a mild, warm breeze passes,
An easy-going comrade,
Kisses every little blade of grass, as if that were the custom,
And every wave.

See how he stands still and dabs about in the grass
With rosy fingers,
Soon something rises under the clods of earth
Toward the all-conquering one.

In a little white dress there stands before him
A lily of the valley,
With impetuousness, so sweetly, it shakes
Its white curls.

I lay so long and froze, ah, so very much
In the brown earth,
I had to wait for the return of May
As your companion.

Now I wish to toll right away, gently and delicately,
In a secret manner!
Lily of the valley rings in the springtime,
Quietly, quietly.