Let me rest, let me dream
Where the evening breezes gently
Rustle in the blossoming trees,
Where the nightingales’
Songs again
Ring out in the twilight of the branches!
 
Just as the silvery brightness of the moon
Plays upon the dark waves of the brook,
In this bright hour
Upon [the pathway’s]1 dark ground
Of bygone days play
Delight and lamentation.
The joy and pain of remembrance
Flare up in my heart -
 
Let me rest, let me dream
To the singing of the nightingales
Under luxuriant blossoming trees,
A long time -- a long time!

And though winter may threaten so violently
With spiteful gestures,
And though it strews ice and snow about,
Spring must nevertheless come.

And though the mists throng ever so thickly
In front of the gaze of the sun,
Nevertheless the sun shall someday
Waken the world to bliss.

Only blow, ye storms, blow with might,
I shall not tremble because of that,
Upon quiet feet, overnight,
Spring shall nevertheless come along.

Then the earth shall waken in greenery,
Not knowing what happened to it,
And shall laugh up into the sunny sky
And wish to perish for joy.

The earth shall twine blossoming wreaths into its hair
And adorn itself with roses and wheat ears,
And shall let the little well pearl forth clear waters,
As if they were tears of joy.

Therefore, be still! And no matter how it freezes,
Oh heart, be contented:
There is a great May day
To be granted to the whole world.

And even if you often worry and shudder
As if it were hell upon earth,
Only trust God undaunted!
Spring must nevertheless come.

Nightingale, beware!
Do not sing so beautifully!
Alas, your all-too-lovely singing
Shall cost you your freedom.
  Beware!
 
Lovely flower, beware,
Do not bloom so glowingly,
Do not shed your scent so rapturously!
Whoever sees you, wishes to pick you,
  Beware!
 
Lovely maiden, beware!
Do not smile so amicably!
Your beauty, your goodness --
Think of the nightingale and blossom.
  Beware,
  Beware!

   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!
You are robbing me of all the blossoms,
So that it snows upon walk and path,
You are even flinging the snow into my face
In heaps, you naughty scoundrel!
   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!

   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!
All the birds are fleeing in startlement
Deep into the woods, into the sure hiding place,
And the delicate flowers of the meadow,
Ah, look how they are trembling, oh look!
   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!

   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!
From the mountains you only chase down 
Stormclouds upon me, black and heavy;
Woe, not a single sunbeam gazes down
Any longer upon the blossoming valley!
   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!

   May wind!
   Halt, halt! not so rapidly!
If you wish to rage, well then I beg you
Take rather my worries away,
For all I care, across the sea with them,
The whole swarm of them, today yet!
   May wind!
   Away, away! quickly, quickly!