Ah, if I had only not caught sight of a ship
I would have remained calm longer,
Yearning has sent it here,
Yearning has driven it away;
Oh love, do you not wish to take pity upon
A rich poor one, a free slave before it is too late[?]
 
   I love something, and I do not tell of it,
For vow and virtue command me to keep silent;
My completely hidden Love-light
Is not permitted to show its flame at all,
It directs its pure, bright beams toward heaven,
The sun is a reflection of my agonies.
 
   A fruit tree that is laden with fruit
Lets its [fruits]1 hang down toward the ground.
[If a strong wind comes]2 from the East,
It cannot be happily shaken up,
It knocks down the fruits and the weak blossoms,
And my dreams that glowed so gloriously in the night.
 
   The languid day is followed by the moon,
It breathes peace upon all creatures.
The ocean is not accustomed to any peace;
Thus I, too, am selected for unrest,
My only joy, the dream, I must already hate in advance,
At the point of highest happiness it shall again abandon me.
 
   Concordia, may you remain in your peace,
I shall never disturb your harmony;
You are my only weal and woe,
I shall swear eternal peace with you.
Oh sweet last moment, then I shall be permitted to speak,
Then shall the torrent of love burst through my eyes and lips.