In memoriam

You dear, faithful lute,

how many a summer night

until morning broke

did I watch with you!

The valleys darken with approaching night again,

already the evening glow is diminishing,

but they who once watched with us,

they have long lain dead.

Why are we compelled now to sing

here in this solitude,

when everyone is gone now

who once delighted in our song?

Yet we will sing nonetheless!

So silent is it in the world;

who knows, these songs may penetrate

perhaps even the starry dome.

Who knows, those who have died,

they might hear me up above

and softly open the gates

and take us up to them.