I sat quite long alone and thought
How from her service I might be free,
Until a comfort gladness brought.
This thing a comfort I can hardly call,
’Tis scarce a baby comfort—oh, so small!
And if I tell you, you’ll be mocking me:
Yet without cause no one can happy be.
A little stalk has made me glad to-day;
It promised happiness I never knew:
I measured with a stalk of straw in play,
As I had often seen the children do.
Now listen, if her heart my love has heeded:
“She loves—loves not—she loves!” Which way my hands would bend,
“She loves me!” always was the end.
So I am happy; only—faith is needed!
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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