Fresh, dewy summer morning,
[Oh, how refreshingly your]1 face smiles upon me!
[Still concealed]2 deep within the soughing forest,
The [birds]3 have already woken with rejoicing.

From far away in the moss, how the roses' scent rises,
How at the forest’s edge the scent of the flowers of the meadow!
[And how]4 teasingly the breezes caress
The golden haulms, how the dew sparkles!

[Ah, and how the green shines from out of the valley]5,
How the river sparkles from out of the rocky chasm!
[How the heights shimmer]6 in the rosy beams,
Beautifully [shrouded by the blue air]7!

[ ... ]

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your greenery?
Is it your secret darkness?
Your colourful blooming?
The mad sparkling of the sun?
  That makes me ever anew and always
  Stand rapt in your magic, drunk with bliss.
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your scents?
Is it the surging of your bushes?
The cool air,
Your high cathedrals?
  That again and again I am drawn
  Down to you, beloved.
    Who may tell,
    Who may ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it your singing?
Is it the whirling of your firs?
Your anxious lamentation?
The roaring of the old oaks?
  That homesickness immediately assails me,
  When I, oh lovely one, must leave you.
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!
Is it majesty?
Is it homely, comforting being
That wafts through you,
That makes you so exquisite?
  That the singer’s songs must again and again
  Praise you rejoicingly!
    Who may tell,
    Who ever probe it?
  I must only always sing:
    Oh forest, oh forest,
How eternally beautiful you are!

  Silver-rimmed cloud-shapes,
Gently illumined [through and through]1 by the most delicate shimmer,
Wafting quietly, so scented, so mild,
Beautiful as if painted by smiling angels!

  And only a little breeze, -- then it’s gone on high
Round about the deepest, most glorious blue!
The [light]2 has been utterly victorious now,
Oh how they are set agleaming, the sky and the meadow!

  Yes, apprehensive heart, when eternal comfort
Shines through that which oppresses you here [on earth],
Though melancholy still dampens your eyes,
Life only adorns everything all the more beautifully for you.

[ ... ]

  Away over the hills
The clouds gently pass,
To dissolve there
Softly in the splendour of evening,
  Oh how beautifully, how peacefully and beautifully
Do they travel along the heavenly heights!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And serene, heavenly peace as well.

  Over the meadows, lo,
The birdlets are whirring swiftly!
They are seeking the softness of the nest
Deep in the blossoming bush.
  Oh how beautifully along the forest
Their evening song is sounding and resounding!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And joyful, quiet trust as well.

  Above on the heavens now
A little star is already twinkling,
As if it had harkened from afar --
Hark -- to the sound of the bell.
  Oh how beautifully, so mildly and beautifully
It laughs down from the blue heights!
  Heart, my heart, you, too, soar up,
May God give you rest,
And blissful, blithe hope as well.

  Does the moon gaze down so smilingly
Because the earth is now so fair?
  Or does the earth smile up
To the radiance of the heavenly heights?

  Does the warm breeze fall silent in the tree
Because the blackbird’s song rang out?
  Or does the noble silence beautifully
Praise the night-song of the bird?

  Do the roses emit a more beautiful scent
Because the dew is falling?
  Or does [the dew] fall into the calyx
Because the glory of the rose is beckoning to it?

  Does the wellspring murmur so melodiously
Because it has been struck by the moonbeam?
  Or did the moonlight smilingly
Seek its friend in the valley?

  Ah, does my heart beat toward you,
Summer moonlit night, you lovely one?
  Or, radiating peace, do you
Yourself bring me rest? --

  Earth and heaven have become one,
Radiance and scent and sound are only one,
  And, unified, all the bliss resounds
Through the moonlit night in song.

  [Storm from the north]1, come! [and quickly defoliate]2 the trees,
All the flowers have wilted already,
[Ah,]3 the last dreams are fleeing,
The last tones are dying away!
  [Storm from the north]4, come! and roar into it all,
Make an end of the pain of the death!

  [Storm from the north]1, come! break into he [silent]5 dread,
Break [into it] with your lamenting sound,
[So that we must no longer]6 see
Unmourned the dead bride!
  [Storm from the north]4, come! why do you still hesitate?
Break, ah break the silence, break it!

  [Storm from the north]1, come! and cover the [terror of death]7
Soon with shining snow,
If you can no longer waken the meadows,
At least conceal their pain with compassion!
  [Storm from the north]4, come! and through all the dread,
Comfort us by letting us see the sky!