Behind yonder [mountain]1 lives
She who rewards my love.
Tell me, mountain, what is this?
It seems to me as if you were transparent,

And [as if] I were not far from it;
For she is coming, I see it already,
Sad, because I am not there,
Smiling, yes, for she knows [that I am coming]!

Now there appears between us
A cool valley with light bushes,
Brooklets, meadows, and the like,
Mills and wheels, the loveliest signs
That soon a flat plain will appear,
Broad, unencumbered fields.
And thus ever, ever outward
All the way to my garden and house!

But how does it happen?
All of this does not make me happy --
I rejoiced in the face
And the radiance of the two eyes,
Rejoiced in the light gait,
And as I see her
From her braids to her toes!

She is gone, I am here,
I am away, I am with her.

When she walks upon rugged hills,
When she hastens along the valley,
There comes a sound as of wings,
Then everything moves like singing.
And upon this abundance of youth,
The joyful splendour of these limbs
One abides in the quietness,
One whom only she makes happy.

Love suits her all too beautifully,
I have never seen anything more lovely!
A flood of blooming flowers
Lightly bursts forth from her heart.

I think: let it be thus!
That refreshes my innermost being;
If she loves me, could I imagine
That there could be anything better yet?

And even more beautiful is the bride
When she has entrusted herself to me utterly,
When she speaks and tells me
What makes her happy and what torments her.
How she feels right now and how she felt in the past,
For I know her utterly and completely.
Who could win for his soul and his body
Such a child and such a woman!