Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916.
By Wanderers Night Songs I & IIJohann Wolfgang von Goethe (17491832)
All our pain and sorrow stillest,
All the souls that doubly smart,
Doubly with thy solace fillest,
Ah, if all this toil might cease!
Why this heartache, joy and zest?
Peace, sweet peace,
Come, oh come into my breast!
Over every crest
Is rest,
In all the trees
The breeze
Scarce touches you.
Hushed is the wood-bird’s song.
Wait: before long,
You will rest too.