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!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Dear [birdlet]1
Upon the [slender]2 firs up there,
To praise the Lord undisturbed.
  If only I, too, could be so happy!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Bright, clear brooklet in the forest!
With melodically sweet singing
To [penetrate]3 unseen through the moss.
  If only I, too, could be so happy!

  Oh, how must you feel,
  Fresh, red floweret in the forest!
With secret stillness to glow in the greenery,
To fade away then painlessly!
  If only I, too, could be so happy!