Brooklet at the meadow's edge, 
 do you still flow?
 Flowers in my homeland, 
 do you still blossom?
 Stalks of grain, 
 do you still rustle in the breezes?
 Lark in the fair sky, 
 could I but hear your song!
 Pleasant youth,
 oh how far, oh how distant.
 
 Does the silvery cool zephyr 
 still waft through flowers?
 Does the old mill still clatter 
 in the rustling linden-grove?
 The window in the ivied wall 
 still shines brightly,
 but the most beautiful maiden 
 looks down no more.
 Love of my youth, 
 oh how far, oh how distant!
 
 Happiness gone by, fragrance faded, 
 love long gone!
 Through my soul 
 passes gentle desire.
 All this one is allowed 
 once, only once, you see;
 Home-forest, home-meadows, 
 dearest maidens!
 But how long ago, 
 you are so long past; oh how far away.