Leise sinkt der Abend nieder,
Bringt die Gegenwart zur Ruh --
Rausche denn bewegter Flieder
Sing' von alter Zeit mir zu.

Bring sie all' die holden Tage
Holde Nächte wieder vor. 
Ganz wie fremde Wundersage,
Trifft es mein berauschtes Ohr!

Kehrte heut' der Tag nicht wieder
Der zuerst mich froh gemacht!
Sinke drauf wie damals nieder
Himmlisch friedensvolle Nacht!

Jener Tag hat Wort gehalten.
Was er leis versprochen dort,
Ward zur Fülle von Gestalten,
Und noch immer wirkt es fort.

Und warum denn nun die Klage,
Daß der Tag nicht wiederkehrt?
Wurden denn nicht schön're Tage,
Schön’re Nächte dir bescheert?

Ach, der Tag kehrt doch nicht wieder,
So flieht auch das Heute sacht.
Rausche denn, bewegter Flieder!
Thränen liebt die sanfte Nacht.

J. Lang sets stanzas 1-3

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with Christian Reinhold Köstlin’s poetry manuscripts, Z 2727-67, poem [7], written in Lustnau on July 1, 1844, Deutsches Literaturarchiv, Marbach, Germany.

Submitter's note: Josephine Lang's title is the date on which the poem was written by her husband (the anniversary of their first meeting four years earlier).

Text Authorship:

• by Christian Reinhold (1813 - 1856), no title [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by Josephine Lang (1815 - 1880), "1. Julÿ", 1844, published 2008, stanzas 1-3 [ voice and piano ], München: Strube Verlag [sung text checked 1 time]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

• ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "The First of July", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Le 1er juillet", copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Senior Associate Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2008-06-25
Line count: 24
Word count: 121

Quietly the evening falls,
Bringing the present to rest. 
Rustle then, moving lilac;
Sing to me of olden times.

Bring them all, the golden days,
Lovely nights, [bring them] forth again!
Just like a strange myth
[Their reappearance] reaches my intoxicated ear.

Did not today return the day
That first made me happy?
Sink down upon it, just as you did back then,
You heavenly, peaceful night!

That day kept its word.
What it quietly promised there
Became a plethora of figures
And it still goes on working.

And why then the lamenting
That the day does not return?
Have you not been granted 
More beautiful days, more beautiful nights?

Ah, the day does not return in any case,
And today, too, gently flees.
Rustle then, moving lilac!
The soft night loves tears.