Longing

This winter morning

how different I feel!

O sunrise, I glow

with your bloom of youth!

The ancient boulders are glowing

and forest and mountain, too,

Drunken clouds roll

headlong down the valley.

In busy haste

my spirit and thoughts are lifted

and fly like golden arrows

away into the distance.

I would spring to the battlements

of the old prince's castle,

sing great songs,

leap upon my horse!

And I rushed noisily after

the proud victory coach,

the harp was dashed to bits,

which spoke only of love.

- What? such misguided confidence,

heart, have you not considered,

have you suddenly forgotten

what made you so besotted?

Oh, well! That which sings from me

is only love's good fortune

that absorbs the confusing sounds

softly into itself.

What will ease my yearning?

Beloved, were you here!

In a thousand tears of joy

my worldly troubles would disappear.