I would have made a bouquet

I would have made a bouquet

but dark night arrived

and there was no little flower to be found,

or I would have brought it.

Then down my cheeks flowed

tears onto the clover -

I saw that one small flower had come up

now in the garden.

I wanted to pick it for you

deep in the dark clover,

but it began to speak:

"Ah, do not harm me!

"Be kind-hearted,

consider your own grief,

and do not let me

die in agony before my time!"

And if it had not spoken so,

in the garden all alone,

I would have plucked it for you,

but now that cannot be.

My sweetheart has not come,

I am so entirely alone.

In love dwells tribulation,

and it can be no different.