Im Fruhling

In Spring

Quietly I sit on the hill's slope.
The sky is so clear;
a breeze plays in the green valley.
Where I was at Spring's first sunbeam
once - alas, I was so happy!

When I was walking at her side,
So intimate and so close,
and deep in the dark rocky spring
was the beautiful sky, blue and bright;
and I saw her in the sky.

Look how colorful Spring already
looks out from bud and blossom!
Not every blossom is the same for me:
I like best to pick from the branch
from which she picked hers!

For all is as it was:
the flowers, the field;
the sun does not shine less brightly,
nor does the spring reflect any less charmingly
the blue image of the sky.

The only things that change are will and delusion:
Joys and quarrels alternate,
the happiness of love flies past,
and only the love remains -
The love and, alas, the sorrow.

Oh, if only I were a little bird,
there, on the meadow's slope,
then I would remain here on these branches,
and sing a sweet song about her
the whole summer long.