Three Songs [1925/1926]

Day after day he comes and goes away.
Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend.
If he asks who was it that sent it,
I entreat you do not tell him my name --
For he only comes and goes away.

He sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend.
His eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart.
He does not speak what he has in mind;
He only comes and goes away.

Speak to me, my love! 
Tell me in words what you sang.
The night is dark. 
The stars are lost in clouds.
The wind is sighing through the leaves.
I will let loose my hair.
My blue cloak will cling round me like the night.
I will clasp your head to my bosom;
And there in the sweet loneliness 
murmur on your heart.
I will shut my eyes and listen.
I will not look in your face.
When your words are ended, 
we will sit still and silent.
Only the trees will whisper in the dark.
The night will pale. 
The day will dawn.
We shall look at each other's eyes 
and go on our different paths.
Speak to me, my love! 
Tell me in words what you sang.

You are the evening cloud
floating in the sky of my dreams.
I paint you and fashion you
ever with my love longings.
You are my own, my own, 
Dweller in my endless dreams!

Your feet are rosy-red 
with the glow of my heart's desire,
Gleaner of my sunset songs!
Your lips are bitter-sweet 
with the taste of my wine of pain.
You are my own, my own, 
Dweller in my lonesome dreams!

With the shadow of my passion 
have I darkened your eyes, 
Haunter of the depth of my gaze!
I have caught you and wrapt you, 
my love, in the net of my music.
You are my own, my own, 
Dweller in my deathless dreams!