Sleep, my darling, because on earth
It now becomes so quiet and strange!
Overhead travel the golden herds,
Over us all the shepherd watches.

In the distance there are thunderstorms;
Alone upon the agile little ship,
I strum the strings of my zither outside,
Because I feel so oppressed and anxious.

Winding themselves about trees and branches
Into your little chamber,
As upon golden ladders, climb
These sounds in and out.

And a wondrously beautiful lad,
Sails high over valley and ravine,
With his golden staff he creates
A rustling in the warm breeze.

And in wondrous tunes
He sings an ancient song
That behind his little boat
Trails in gentle magical circles.

[Ah, the sweet sounds are ensnared]1
[And carried] into the distance by the amorous wind,
And through locks and walls they are discerned
Dreamily by [every beautiful]2 child.

The evening bells were already
  [Ringing]1 in the quiet valley
When we sat together
  Up there, surely a hundred times.
 
And down below it was so quiet
  In the countryside far and wide,
Only the linden tree above us
  Soughed in the solitude.
 
How are the bells ringing today
  As if I must weep?
The bells signify
  That my love has died!
 
I wish that I lay buried
  And that above me broadly [spread out]
The linden tree soughed every evening
  Of [the old, beautiful time]2.