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Der Firnen Schnee, des Himmels Blau, Die Alpenrose zu Füßen, Wie froh sie alle, schau, o schau, Du schlanke Tanne, dich grüßen! Mit frischen Blüthen das Gestein, Das Grün mit goldener Treue; O wie sie dich im Abendschein Umweben lächelnd auf's neue! Du aber flüsterst leise nur Mit freudig holdem Verneigen: Dem Sturm allein, dem gilt mein Schwur, Ihm bleib' ich ewig zu eigen!
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This text was added to the website: 2021-01-03
Line count: 12
Word count: 65
The old snow, the blue of the sky, The alpine rose at your feet, How happily -- see, oh see -- They all greet you, you slender fir! The rocks with fresh blooms, The green with golden faithfulness; Oh, how in the evening radiance They Weaves about you anew with a smile! But you only whisper quietly With a joyful, lovely bowing: My vow is only to the storm, I belong eternally to the storm!
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This text was added to the website: 2025-07-23
Line count: 12
Word count: 73
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