When Springtime ripped itself from the heart
of the blossoming earth,
he tread once more with sorow
through the world that he was departing.

Melting fields and green crops
greet him with bright flowers
and the shady canopy
of the dark wood whisper about him.

There in the supple velvety moss
he observes, half-concealed by the foliage,
a lovely, carefree being
sprawled in sweet slumber.

Whether she is still a child or already a maiden,
he does not venture to decide.
Short, blonde filaments of silk
blow about her round little head.

Her slim arms are still delicate,
her figure still immature
and yet her breast seems
already to be surging with emotion again.

Her cheeks glow with rosy fire,
her mouth is smiling and clever,
and through the filmy veil of eyelashes
her bright eyes look out roguishly.

And Spring, intoxicated with bliss,
stands there, deeply moved;
engrossed in this lovely sight
he now feels fully what he is leaving!

But the hour urgently reminds him
that he must depart quickly.
Ah! there suddenly burns on her lips
the glowing heat of his parting kiss.

And then he vanished.
But the girl is jolted from her sleep:
the kiss had set her afire
as if she had been struck by lightning.

All of the buds now unfolded
that her small bosom had concealed: 
she was quickly transformed into a young woman,
and arose from the coffin of her childhood.

Her blue eyes snap open,
serious and full of love;
she seems to inquire after the happiness
that she has unknowingly lost.

But no one tells her anything;
they stare at her with astonishment,
and the girlfriends in her circle
do not know what has happened to her.

Even she herself does not know! - Tears
speak only of their sorrow,
and an inscrutable yearning
impels her outside of herself.

It urges her forth to find the image
that lives within her mind,
that her intuition speaks about
and that floats about her in her dreams.

She climbed over rocky cliffs,
scaled mountains up and down,
until she came to a river
that obstructed her questing way.

But in the damp grass on the shore
her hot feet were cooled,
and in the glittering reflection
she saw her own image.

She saw the sky's blue remoteness,
she saw the crimson gleam of the clouds,
she saw the moon and all the stars -
and she felt her pain more mildly.

For she now understood
that she had found a soul
that understood her most intimate yearnings,
her deepest grief.

In this place she would gladly
build herself a quiet home;
in the mild, transfiguring waves
she could trust entirely.

And she feels herself recovering completely
as she speaks to the waters,
 as if she were speaking to that being from her dreams;
Oh, forget me not, forget me not!