Love's Garden

Love is a rose bush.

Where does it bloom?

There now, in our garden,

wherein we two, my love and I,

stay each true to his own,

for which in gratitude it

daily strews new flowers for us.

And if in heaven roses bloom,

yet they could not bloom more beautiful.

Love is a clear stream.

Where does it flow?

There now, in our garden.

So many waves, so much pleasure

and all kinds of joy;

also it mirrors the world around,

as though it were even much fairer.

On it we sail away so happy,

as birds fly through the sky.

Love is a shining star.

Where does it shine?

There now, in our garden.

O darling tell me, for what do you let me

often wait so long?

For if I do not see you all hours,

the glow of the star burns my heart;

but then you come, it soars gently,

as the sun rises in May.