UNDISTURBED the pool reposes,
And the moon with silver sheen
Weaves upon it pallid roses
In the sedges’ wreath of green.
Stags, upon the hillside erring,
Upward in the darkness glance,
Wildfowl in the sedge are stirring,
Now and then, as in a trance.
Down I gaze, my tears are flowing;
Through my soul’s depth unaware
Tender thoughts of thee are going,
Like a silent evening prayer.
Written 1832. Translation by Margarete Münsterberg, first printed 1916.