Voice of longing

I whisper at your bed in sleepless night,

I have made your days so tired.

And what I have been and what I am to you

Shifts in eternal change.

I am a dark, confused sound

Far from Thule.

I am your youth's withering dream,

Your first kiss under the apple tree.

I am your holy sorrow,

I call you at dawn and dusk.

Your fields decay, your plough stands still.

You are driven into purple distance,

And I hurry ahead of you,

And you foot becomes sore,

And, more and more thirsty, your mouth burns.

And you cry for me,

For fulfillment and light;

How starving and cold you are

And you do not find me.

I am only a whisper;

I am only a sound.

Your heart will keep silence,

So I will, too.