English translations of Vier Wiegenlieder nach Gedichten von Robert Reinick, opus 39

 "Eia popeia,"
Is an old song;
And the eyes of everyone who has heard the song
Become sleepy:
The puppy and the kitten,
On the window sill the sparrow,
Even my child, my little sweetheart
 "Eia popeia,"
As nimbly as they were just jumping about,
They all grow tired. 

"Eia popeia" 
Is an old song.
The moon has often heard it
And has often grown tired.
The streams and the springs,
No matter how wide-awake they pretend to be,
In dreams the waves sing it:
 "Eia popeia."
As soon as the night has sung it,
Everything grows tired.

 "Eia popeia" 
Is an old song,
Yet there is one who sings and sings it
And does not grow tired from it.
There is silence in all the rooms,
There is blossoming in all the trees,
[But] she cannot sleep or dream.
 "Eia popeia" --
Until her child is slumbering,
The mother does not grow tired.

Down from the mountain
Steals the day's end
my child lies in the cradle,
the little birds are nesting,
one little songbird only
sings in the twilight:
Good night, good night, dear child, good night
Good night, good night, dear child, good night

The toy lies in the cabinet,
the clothes are on the bench
Alone, a little mouse
rustles in the closet,

the evening star shines above
and beckons the child from afar.
Good night, good night, dear child, good night
Good night, good night, dear child, good night

The cradle rocks on its rail,
The clock ticks back and forth,
The flies still buzz,
Softly in the distance.
Ye flies, leave my child in peace!
Why come buzzing into his room?
Good night, good night, dear child, good night
Good night, good night, dear child, good night

The bird and the stars,
And all who are all about,
Surely love my child,
The angels even more.
They shield him with their wings
And softly sing, "Sleep in peace!"
Good night, good night, dear child, good night
Good night, good night, dear child, good night

The sun has grown tired, and says:
"Now I'm stopping all this running around!"
It goes to bed and closes its eyes
And quietly falls asleep!
Hum, hum, hum,
My little child does it [just like the sun],
My little child is not silly!

The little tree that was only just rustling
Says: "What's all this?
If the sun no longer wishes to shine
I shall quietly go to sleep!"
Hum, hum, hum,
My little child does it [just like the tree],
My little child is not silly!

The bird that had been singing in the tree
Says: "What's all this?
If the tree no longer wishes to rustle
I shall quietly go to sleep!"
Hum, hum, hum,
My little child does it [just like the bird],
My little child is not silly!

The little rabbit perks up its long ears
And says:  "What's all this?
If I don't hear a bird singing
I shall quietly go to sleep!"
Hum, hum, hum,
My little child does it [just like the rabbit],
My little child is not silly!

The huntsman stops blowing his horn
And says:  "What's all this?
If I don't see any rabbits running
I shall quietly go to sleep!"
Hum, hum, hum,
My little child does it [just like the huntsman],
My little child is not silly!

Along comes the moon and looks down,
Saying: "What's all this?
No huntsman on the watch?
No rabbit jumping?
No bird singing?
No little tree rustling?
No sunshine!
And the little child alone
is still awake?"
No! No! No!
The dear little child shuts its eyes. 
The dear little child is already falling asleep.

Go to sleep, my sweet child!
Outdoors the wind is singing.
He is singing the whole world to rest,
Covering it up with his white bedclothes.
And although he blows into the world's face,
It does not stir and it does not move
It also does not even stretch its little hand
Forth from its soft blankets.
 
Go to sleep, my sweet child!
Outdoors the wind is passing by.
He raps at the windows and peers in
And if he still hears a child crying anywhere,
He chides and grumbles and hums greatly,
He immediately hauls forth his blanket of snow
And places it upon the cradle
When the child does not want to lie quietly.
 
Go to sleep, my sweet child!
Outdoors the wind is blowing.
He shakes the fir tree, [and]
Out flies a beautiful dream,
Which flies through snow and night and wind
Quickly, quickly to the dear child,
And sings of merry things
That the [Christchild]1 shall bring [to the child].
 
Go to sleep, my sweet child!
Outdoors the wind is blowing,
But when the sun says "Greetings!",
[The wind] blows the child's cheeks red,
And when Springtime says "Good day!",
[The wind] blows awake the whole world,
And everything that was lying very quietly
Becomes joyful all about.
Therefore sleep, my sweet child,
Even though the wind is blowing outdoors.