Since my youth,
      In joy and sorrow,
      I have had a dear friend
      Who laughs and weeps with me; 
      That friend is: my singing,
      Which, as I am, is now happy, now gloomy and anxious,
      [The friend] whom He who governs all
      Has given me so graciously.
I was often laden with worries, my spirit full of doubts,
      Yet faithful remained to me: my song.

And in the passing of the hours, what
Of the agony and joy of love my heart
Had perceived as eternally true and faithful,
That which I locked up in the deepest part of my breast,
That for which I struggled in fervent yearning,
Now full of hope, now wearied to death,
My whole being in happiness and tears,
[All of] that was articulated by:  my song! --

      And when my hair has turned gray,
      When the sound of my voice has died away,
      I shall likely often turn my gaze
      Back to today,
      Back to this blissful time,
      So rich in grace and felicity,
      And think: that was so lovely,
      And yet it had to vanish!
Then, like a sweet comfort, through my soul shall pass
      That which today I sang: my song!