I wander through the quiet night

I wander through the quiet night;

the moon floats so secretly and gently,

often emerging from a dark cover of clouds.

And here and there in the valley

a nightingale awakens

but then all is gray and still again.

O wonderful night-song

from distant parts - the rushing of a stream

and the soft shuddering in the dark trees

confuse my thoughts.

My clamorous singing here

is only like a cry from my dreams.