And though you may place between me and her
Broad rivers and valleys and hills,
Ye stern lords, ye shall never separate us,
The song, the song has wings.
I am a minstrel, well known,
I take myself off on a journey,
And from now on I shall sing through the whole land
Only the one lay:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

And when I wander through the leafy forest,
Where finch and blackbird dart:
The little folk soon overhear my song
And begin to whistle it.
And upon the heath the wind hears it
And merrily spreads its wings,
And carries it quickly across the broad river
And over the mountains and further on:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!

 ... 

And the brisk wind and the woodland birds,
And fishermen, maids and hunters,
They must all be messengers
And carriers of my love.
Thus in the end it comes in earnest,
It comes in jest to your ears;
And when you hear it, your heart throbs,
You discern who sent the message:
    I love you, you sweet one,
    You my joy and agony,
    I love you and I greet you
    A thousand, thousand times!