By the sea

At the other side of the wooden wall of the ship

where my dreaming head is lying

the waves are surging, the wild waves;

they are roaring and murmuring

secretly into my ear,

"You bewitched lad.

Your arm is short the sky so wide

and the stars are fastened so securely up there

with golden nails --

pointless longing, pointless sighing,

it would be best if you fell asleep."