Already the distant mountains are dissolving

Already the distant mountains are dissolving with the clouds

into a sea; out of the waves climbs the moon. She

greets the meadow and on the other side, greets the most beautiful

song of Philomela.

It comes from a bush whose blossoming branches wind round

the secret spot of tender love.

Against the chest of the youth, Mirzi hearkens to their

magic trills.

There by the hill the sheep of both graze

harmoniously together in one flock;

their little bells join in so pleasingly

with merry accord.