Transfixed in the quiet circle of gentle hills,
There winds a river of eternally identical days,
There my bosom no long wishes to know of distant things,
And smilingly longing folds its wings.

Many others are standing boldly in the stirrups,
To capture the highest goods of life,
And -- what they desire, they first must dare,
A stern spirit governs the horse's reins. -

What do you sing so enticingly, you quiet meadows,
You homeland with the rainbow bridges,
You merry images of innocent, colourful games?

I am seized by the storm! light and shadow wrestle wildly,
Through gaps in the clouds flaming rapture breaks forth -
Onward, my steed! we shall yet find the way to our goal!