mersiowsky - 6-10-2014 at 06:23 PM
(From Hoyerswerda)
Translated by H. Melvin Symmank
Evening, the evening is all very dark,
And one sees the steps no more.
Hear no little bird in the mountain and valley,
But only the sweet nightingale.
The nightingale sings, when it is thunderstorm,
The boy yet walks when the weather is nice.