Do not sing in mournful tones

Do not sing in mournful tones

of the loneliness of Night.

No; it was, o tender, fair ones,

made for companionship.

As woman was given to man

to be his better half,

so is Night half of life,

and certainly the better half.

Can you delight in the day,

which only interrupts joy?

It is good for distraction,

but of use for nothing else.

But when, in that nocturnal hour,

the sweet lamps' twilight flows,

and from mouth to neighboring mouth

pour jests and love;

when that quick, scampish boy

who hurries, wild and fiery,

often toying with a small gift

in light play to pass the time;

when the nightingale sings to sweethearts

a little song full of love,

which to the imprisoned and troubled

sounds only like sighs and moans;

with such a lightly stirring heart

do you not listen to the bell,

that, with twelve measured strokes

promises repose and safety?

Thus, in the long day,

mark it well, dear heart:

every day has its troubles,

and the night has its pleasure.