The May night is so still,
So still the halls of the forest;
Only the brook in the cool depths is awake,
Quietly flowing past.
The flowers are nodding quietly in their dreams,
The soughing in the trees tells of golden days,
So quietly, so secretly gentle.

  Listen, a blackbird with a bright sound
Sends wakening through the forest's silence:
Ye sleepers, there is already a glow in the east,
The treetop wishes to bend;
Up, oh lark, greet the sky,
Sing in the blueness so loudly, so sweetly,
Then the night shall be off!

  Once more it sounds like an alphorn,
There, listen, an answer has come;
Oh blackbird, do you not hear the singing?
The forest has heard you.
The oriole is calling so brightly in the valley,
The cuckoo suddenly calls
Along the whole valley.

  And a bell from afar 
Begins to sing sweetly,
And in my heart, sweetly and delicately,
All the bells swing.
That is a singing, that is a tone;
It rings and sings along the whole world;
God shall be praised!