Sylvan solitude! -- Only the sun
Plays upon the dark moss in parting,
And deep in the shrubbery a birdlet
Still sings quietly and laments its lot,
And through the leaves a little breeze passes
As solemnly as a prayer.
  Oh, you sweet sylvan solitude!
  Sylvan solitude, bring me rest as well! 

  Sylvan solitude! -- Only the little roses
Open their eyes in wonder,
And under the reeds the brook
Seeks its path in never-weary flow,
And from the distant hill, gentle and familiar,
Comes the sound of the evening bells.
  Oh, you sweet sylvan solitude!
  Sylvan solitude, bring me rest as well! 

  Sylvan solitude! -- Oh, only now your comfort
Refreshes me utterly, now that every sound
And every radiance has died away round about,
No breath of wind travels along the firs any longer,
In holy stillness God alone
Wishes to be near me with rich mercy.
  Oh, you sweet sylvan solitude!
  Be thanked, be thanked for your gift of rest!

Twilight comes gently;
With his lambs, the moon
Is already traversing his path upon the heavens;
Wearied from singing,
The birdlets lift their wings
Toward their homey nests.

Outdoors the shimmering
Eyes of the delicate
Little flowers in the garden fall shut.
Hark, and the bells,
How they entice you:
Sleep, my rosy little child, you sleep too!

Do you hear the little angel?
With its wings it 
Quietly fans your cheeks by night;
Lifts you from your pillow,
Carrying you in the coolness
Into the heavenly gardens full of splendour.

In the morning it again
Flies down with you,
Placing you carefully back into your little bed,
So that when you wake
Your eyes, little child,
Are still smiling in blessed happiness.

Now the willows are beginning to bloom,
  Rejoice, my heart!
A birdlet is already twittering now and then,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And though it not be the lovely springtime yet
With its beautiful green and its blossoms bright,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!

White-flecked, the brooklets are rushing down into the valley,
  Rejoice, my heart!
The sun’s beams are smiling much more bravely already,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And though in the furrows snow may yet lie,
And though frost might still injure the springtime,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!

Truly, already I felt a balmy breeze,
  Rejoice, my heart!
On the bank a floweret nods cleverly,
  Rejoice, my heart!
And although ice be still floating upon the lakes,
And springtime wisely yet waits to appear,
  Who knows, overnight
  It may appear with might,
  And soon with all its joy and glory,
Only rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, my heart!