Be always greeted by us, oh night,
But doubly so here in the forest,
Where your eyes smile more clandestinely,
Where your footsteps echo more quietly!

Upon the branches' leafy goblets
You pour out your silver,
You hang the moon with its beams
As a lamp for us in the house of leaves.

Soughing little breezes
Are your conversation;
Spinning beams
Are your threads,
Everything that your lips touched soothingly,
Lowers its eye and sinks into sleep!

And yet, - it is too lovely for sleeping,
Therefore arise and wake with the sound of horns,
With the wave-beats of brighter resonances,
That which prematurely lay numbed in slumber!

There is already movement
In the foliage of the forest;
The birds are of the belief
That night has flown.

The wandering deer
Timidly withdraw;
They think that soon
Day will dawn;


The treetops of the forest
Begin to roar mightily;

And we cry out in song:
The night is at home in the forest,
Then for a long time Echo, too, cries:
It is at home in the forest!

Therefore, oh lovely, lovely night, be doubly greeted
By us here in the forest;
Where everything that portrays you to us as beautiful,
Smiles even more beautifully upon us.