Who shall be mine?
    Have my eyes seen him yet?
Where might he be wandering on earth?
    Is he far or is he near?

Will he have a handsome face
    Or at least not be ugly?
Curly hair? Light eyes?
    Tall of stature or short?

Strong-limbed or slender?
    Shall he [swing]1 himself lightly when dancing?
Shall his thoughts be [sober, stern, deliberate]2,
    Or quite romantic?

[ ... ]

Tell me, lovely blossom scents
    That waft into my chamber,
Tell me, [quiet]3 evening breezes,
    Tell me, gentle moonlight!

Tell me, fairies, small, wanton,
    You who eavesdrop and laugh and nod,
Tell me, sweet red rose
    That peeps into my window!

Tell me, you wise stars
    That rise upon the heavens!
Sprouts swell into the distance,
    And they know not whither?

Loving arms stand outstretched,
    Ah, whom shall they receive?
Lips that hope for kisses,
    Ah, who shall come near for a kiss?

Or should I rather say
    That it is lovely to be so blind?
[That] this lamenting, this questioning
    Be a sweet suffering for us maidens?

[That] dreams can play more blissfully,
    Like children in an empty house,
When lovely wishes travel forth
    To unknown destinations?

Joyful anxiety!  Anxious joy!
    Unknown one, come find me!
Sorrow in happiness and happiness in sorrow!
    You who are to come, I love you!

Happily at the cool edge of the forest
I linger and think of you;
Above me in the blossoming tree
A little bird sings its song.

Little song-soul, pour forth
All of your yearning into the scents!
For you know that another voice
Deep in the shrubbery calls back an answer to you.

You know that among dense branches
It shall soon entice you to your nest,
While in the roundelay of spring
My song dies away unheard.

"Oh give my soul back to me,"
I lamented, "[The soul] that you stole!"
Thereupon, oh blissful joy, she inclined
Her curly head toward me.
She smiled: "But tell me,
Where does your soul wend its way?"
"Oh come," I said, "I shall show you
The crimson pathway of the soul!"

With your lips quietly
And gently touch my mouth!"
She did, - thereupon, glowingly fervent,
A kiss flamed up from the depths of my heart:
And, intoxicated, a soul entered
Into my heart during the kiss -
But it was hers, beautifully exchanged,
My soul remained with her!

Oh tell me, do you want to come with me?
The white hawthorn blooms in the deep forest,
The warm spring breezes blow,
The bees are swarming upon the upward slope.

And when the humid summertime comes,
We shall eavesdrop on the turtledoves,
The male dove coos and spreads his feathers,
The female sits in the soft nest.

And when harsh autumn burst upon us,
We shall see the mists surging,
And shall smile when the red leaves
Fall in the withered grove.

And when winter snows upon our hair,
Then we shall dream in quiet hours,
About how lovely it once was in spring,
When we found each other at the white hawthorn.