The waves shimmer, the water flows,
From the distance sounds the sailor’s song.

The warm winds carry the tones
To the shore, until they have become blurred.

The mists rise, the seagull calls,
The scent wafts along the margin of willows.

No star looks down from heaven,
From afar dark clouds approach.

I wander along the shore in the silent night.
It is you of whom I have thought again!

And though you may place between me and her
Broad rivers and valleys and hills,
Ye stern lords, ye shall never separate us,
The song, the song has wings.
I am a minstrel, well known,
I take myself off on a journey,
And from now on I shall sing through the whole land
Only the one lay:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

And when I wander through the leafy forest,
Where finch and blackbird dart:
The little folk soon overhear my song
And begin to whistle it.
And upon the heath the wind hears it
And merrily spreads its wings,
And carries it quickly across the broad river
And over the mountains and further on:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

Though city and village, through meadow and wheatfield
I play it upon my travels,
Soon by the water-spring at night
The maids with their jugs sing it,
The huntsman hums it
While spooring in the beech grove;
The fisherman throws his net into the sea
And sings it to the sound of his oar strokes:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

And the brisk wind and the woodland birds,
And fishermen, maids and hunters,
They must all be messengers
And carriers of my love.
Thus in the end it comes in earnest,
It comes in jest to your ears;
And when you hear it, your heart throbs,
You discern who sent [the message]:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

In the circle of my dear ones, I [have often]1
  Rested in the scented grass,
And sung a song to myself,
  And everything was lovely and good.

I have grieved in solitary sorrow,
  [With anxious, sombre spirit]2,
[And then I sang again,
  And everything was once more in order.]3

And much that I have experienced,
  I brooded upon in silent wrath,
[And]4 when I returned to singing
  Everything was once more in order.

[You are]5 not to lament to us at length
  About everything that hurts you,
Only sing -- sing boldly!
  And everything will once more be in order.