I dreamed that I was a little bird
and that I flew onto her lap
and, so as not to be idle, undid
the bow on her bosom;
and then I flitted clownlike
onto her white hand,
then again onto her bosom kerchief,
where I pecked at the red ribbon.

Then I hovered over her blonde hair,
and twittered with joy,
and rested when I was weary,
against her white breast.
No bed of violets in paradise
would I prefer to those lodgings!
How sweetly I slept, how sweetly,
against the gauze on her bosom!

As I sank deeper, she played
a light rhythm by drumming her fingers,
and it penetrated me body and soul
until it merrilly awakened my slumber;
she gazed at me with such wondrous friendliness
and bade me give her my mouth,
so that I cannot describe
how cheerful, how cheerful I was.

I hopped along on one leg
and had my game thus;
and with my wings
played with her cool cheeks;
but ah! no earthly pleasure
can last day and night!
My sweet dream quickly vanished
and I woke up.