Longing Soothed - Friedrich Rückert

Bathed in the golden evening glow,

How solemn the forests stand!

Into the gentle voices of little birds

Breathes the wafted evening breeze.

What do the winds whisper, the little birds?

They whisper the world into slumber.

You wishes that are always stirring

In my heart with neither rest nor peace!

You longing that moves my breast,

When do you rest, when do you slumber?

Though the winds and little birds whisper,

You yearning desires, when will you sleep?

What comes borne on the wings of dreams?

What blows upon me with longing, so fondly?

It comes drawn from the distant hills,

It comes upon throbbing golden sun.

Well may the winds whisper, the little birds,

But longing and yearning never sleep.

Oh, when no longer into the golden distance

My spirit hastens on feathered dreams,

Or my eye no longer with its yearning look

Dwells on eternally distant stars;

Then the winds, the little birds

Whisper my yearning into my life.

---

[Johann Michael] Friedrich Rückert (1788 – 1866) Germany

Translated by David Paley

Source: Poems Without Frontiers