Song of the persecuted man in the tower

The prisoner:

Thoughts are free,

who can guess them?

They rush past

like nocturnal shadows.

No man can know them,

no hunter can shoot them;

for it remains thus:

thoughts are free.

The maiden:

In summer it is good to be merry

on high, wild meadows,

where one finds a green little place;

my heart's beloved treasure,

I do not wish to part from you!

The prisoner:

And if they lock me up

in a dark dungeon,

it is all only

in vain that they try,

for my thoughts

rip apart the barriers

and break the walls in two:

thoughts are free!

The maiden:

In summer it is good to be merry

on high, wild mountains;

one is always alone there;

one hears no children shrieking,

and the air is so inviting.

The prisoner:

So may it be, just as it is;

and if it is proper,

may it be in silence;

And what gladdens my heart,

my wish and desire,

no one can restrain;

for it remains thus:

thoughts are free.

The maiden:

My darling, you sing so cheerfully here,

as if you were a bird in the grass;

and I stand so sadly by the dungeon door.

If only I were dead, or if only I were with you!

Alas! must I always lament?

The prisoner:

And because you lament so,

I will renounce love,

and if I dare,

then nothing will torment me.

So in my heart

I can always laugh and joke,

for it remains thus:

thoughts are free!