Serenade

Softly, pleading flows my singing
through the night to you.
Down to that still copse entreating
Love, I’ll wait for you.

Whispering, slender treetops rustling
in the moonlit glade,
of a traitor’s hostile listening.
Don’t, my love, be afraid.

Nightingales, you hear them singing?
Ah, they beg of thee,
with their notes and sweet complaining,
now they plead for me.

Well they know the heart’s desire
Well know lover’s pains.
Touching with their silver lyre
all heart’s finest strains.

Let also your heart be moved,
Love, oh hear me now!
Trembling, do I wait beloved,
come, your kiss bestow.



A beautiful translation of Ludwig Rellstab's poem (by my clever friend Ariel).
The original poem, in German, was set to music by Schubert for a 'Standchen.' Of all the translations I've read of this poem, Ariel's is the most beautiful.