And at last longing dies

And at last longing dies,

as flowers die in the cellar,

ever waiting for a little bit of sunlight,

as animals die if one keeps them without love,

and as do all the neglected people in the world!

You no longer wonder: "Where can it be found?"

Calmly do you awaken, calmly do you fall asleep.

As you look back on the vanished days of your youth,

and someone says to you wisely: "This is your good fortune!",

then you think that perhaps it really is true;

yet silently you wonder why you are still not happy.