Rustle, dear myrtle!

Rustle, dear myrtle!

How quiet it is in the world,

the moon, the shepherd of the stars

in the bright field of heaven,

is driving the cloud-sheep already

to the spring of light;

sleep, my friend, o sleep,

until I am with you again!

Rustle, dear myrtle!

and dream in the starlight;

the turtledove has cooed

her brood to sleep.

Quietly the cloud-sheep float

toward the spring of light;

sleep, my friend, o sleep,

until I am with you again!