Hovering large and ablaze with red
The sun is still at the edge of the sky,
And quivering on the blue waves,
And its reflection continues as far as the shore;
Lifting itself from the beech wood
Is the moon, which is sending a sign of restfulness
To its sister, the Earth.

Gathering in swollen clouds,
Ever darker, is the red glow;
A delicate change in the colour is spreading
Over the flood of rye blossom;
Amongst the swaying stems can be heard 
The bright cry of lively quails
And the shepherd responds on his pipe.

A lovely fragrance rises over the meadows
Over there, in gently winding scent,
And the youngest shrubs are emitting
A cool refreshment through the air,
Every little blossom is sucking it up with warm 
Lips and the grass is sinking
Under the pearls that it is drinking.

The wood pigeons' mates are cooing
Still, the doves are calling them gently to rest,
Dark bats are whirling around
Now, going towards the smooth pond,
And the swarm of beetles is on the move,
And the owl, now awake,
Is going by, crying out as it keeps watch.

With their little heads tucked into their feathers,
Our singers are now asleep,
Their songs have fallen silent,
Even the loud starlings are resting,
On the swaying rushes again,
It is only the nightingale
That is still enjoying itself in the moonlight.

Just as, even in silence there is animation,
With the onset of night,
After the various things that had to be dealt with,
The mother is now careful
To put her child to bed;
How with each final 'goodnight'
She continues to give a tender kiss;

Similarly, after the turmoil of the day
The watchfulness of eternal love looks on,
Through the star-filled sky
Back down on Earth;
Early on it hears the tumult
Of the awakening Earth, and late at night
It hears him who prays alone.

When the nightingales sing,
Lift yourself up, my spirit, rise up!
As the young day turns red
Turn your ear to me, oh father!
From the Earth and its necessities
Climb up, oh spirit! Like the scent of the meadow,
Father, send us your dew!