In a silent garden
At the shaft of a well,
How gladly would I wait
The long grey night through.
 
Many bright lilies bloom
About the abysm of the well;
Within it the stars swim golden,
Within it the moon bathes.
 
And as the dear stars shimmer
[Down] into the well,
Always within my heart shines
The radiance of your dear eyes.
 
But the stars upon the heavens
Are all so far away;
Within your silent garden
I would so gladly now be standing.

When by night I rode over the mountains,
Rack, schack, schacke, my little horse,
A strange ringing seemed to be riding along with me,
Kling, ling, klingelalei.

It was a beguilingly pleading sound,
It was as beautiful as the voices of children.

It was as if I were caressing a soft [head of] hair,
I felt so [melancholy and]1 wondrous.

Then the ringing disappeared all at once,
I gazed down into the deep valley.

[There]2 I saw light within my house,
Rack, schack, schacke, my little horse,
My little lad was looking out [for his mother]3,
Kling, ling, klingelalei.

We have a bed, we have a child,
My wife!
We have also work - work for two,
and have the sun and rain and wind;
and we lack just one small thing
to be as free as the birds are:
only time.

When on Sundays we go through the fields,
My child,
And above the corn, far and wide,
the blue swallows can be seen flitting,
Oh, then, we lack no bits of clothing
to be as fine as the birds are:
only time.

Only time! We sense a stormwind,
we people.
Just one small eternity;
We lack nothing, my wife, my child,
but all that thrives in us,
to be as bold as the birds are:
only time.

You will not weep. Gently
you will smile, and as before a journey,
I will return your gaze and your kiss.
Our dear four walls you have helped build;
and I have now widened them for you into the world.
O joy!

Then you will warmly seize my hands
and you will leave me your soul,
leaving me behind for our children.
You gave me your entire life,
so I will give it again to them.
O joy!

It will be very soon, as we both know -
but we have freed each other from sorrow.
And so I [return]1 you to the world!
You will then appear to me only in dreams,
and bless me and weep with me.
O joy!

The storm is eavesdropping on my father’s house,
my heart beats out into the night,
loudly; thus from the [storm’s] roaring
in the forest I awoke already as a child.
My young son, listen, listen:
in your distant cradle-rest
the wind moans my words to you in your dreams.

Once I too laughed in my sleep,
my son, and was not awakened
by the storm; until a grey night
came, like today.
Dully the [föhn-wind]1 surges in the forest today
as it did back then, when I heard its sound
in fear, as I heard the words of my father.

Listen to how the margin of the budding treetops
baulks, bends, from tree to tree;
my son, into your [cradle-dream]2
the storm laughs ragingly -- listen, listen!
It has never bowed down in fear!
hear, how it wheezes through the treetops:
be you! be you! --

And when at some point, my son,
your old father speaks to you of filial duty,
do not obey him, do not obey him:
Hear how the [föhn-wind]1 brews up the spring in the forest!
Hear how it [storms about]3 my father’s house,
my heart [sounds]4 out into the night,
loudly -- --