Upon the heath,
There I lay with him.—Alas,
When you go there, you’ll see
The flowers beneath
Crushed and trodden with the grass.
By the forest in the dale,
Tandarady!
Sweetly sang the nightingale.
I strolled unto the green:
My lover true
Was waiting there impatiently.
Such welcome ne’er was seen—
Ah, if you knew!
My heart still throbs in ecstasy.
Kisses?—Thousands—more!—he took:
Tandarady!
See, how red my lips now look!
How he caressed me there,
If anyone
Should know: alas, how I should blush!
And all our pastime fair!
Ah, none, none, none
Shall know, but he and I—hush, hush!—
And the birdie on the tree
Tandarady!
May that ever silent be!
Walter von der Vogelweide (1170 – 1228) Germany
Translated by Margarete Münsterberg
Source: A Harvest of German Verse, edited and translated by Margarete Münsterberg, D. Appleton and Co., 1916
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