Die Lotosblume ängstigt
(Peter) Nicolai von Wilm
The Lotus-flower doth languish
Beneath the sun's fierce light;
With drooping head she waiteth
All dreamily for night.
The Moon is her true lover,
He wakes her with his glance:
To him she unveils gladly
Her gentle countenance.
She blooms and glows and brightens,
Intent on him above,
Exhaling, weeping, trembling,
With ever-yearning love.