Incantesimo

Evening serenade

Text by Joseph von Eichendorff

Sleep, my darling, because on earth It now becomes so quiet and strange! Overhead travel the golden herds, Over us all the shepherd watches.

In the distance there are thunderstorms; Alone upon the agile little ship, I strum the strings of my zither outside, Because I feel so oppressed and anxious.

Winding themselves about trees and branches Into your little chamber, As upon golden ladders, climb These sounds in and out.

And a wondrously beautiful lad, Sails high over valley and ravine, With his golden staff he creates A rustling in the warm breeze.

And in wondrous tunes He sings an ancient song That behind his little boat Trails in gentle magical circles.

Ah, the sweet sounds are ensnared Into the distance by the amorous wind, And through locks and walls they are discerned Dreamily by every beautiful child.

Translation © by Sharon Krebs, reprinted with permission from the LiederNet Archive