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MURMUR OF THE FOREST
’Neath the sun’s rays in the vale
Shimmer trembling waters clear;
Full of longing, from the brake
I look downwards to the lake,
Sitting in cool shade I hear
Calling quail.
Softly as if half asleep
Murmur all the springs and brooks;
When among the boughs the sun
Shines on waters, quick they run,
And like deer, with frightened looks,
Wildly leap.
Orioles and thrushes sing—
Who can understand them all?
Hidden in the trees each bird
Singing of the spring is heard,
Meaningful they talk and call
Twittering.
Says the cuckoo: „Have you seen
Our most lovely sister dear?
Sister of our summer dreams,
Languishing with love she seems.
Where art thou? O come, appear,
Fairy Queen!“
