The sun takes no pleasure in shining,
The night has no joy of her dew,
The summer is drooping and pining,
The ring-dove is mourning for you,
Only you, only you.
The rose-leaves are falling, are falling,
The stars glimmer few,
And my heart in the shadows is calling
To you, only you.

Come back to the summertime, bringing
The joy of the day and the dew;
To the forest her green and her singing,
To my heart, in her loneliness, you,
Only you, only you.
For the rose-leaves are falling, are falling,
And nothing stand true
Save my heart in the twilight still calling
To you, only you.