Bathed in the golden glow of evening, how solemn the woods look! The soft blowing of the evening breeze breathes in soft bird voices. What are they whispering, the winds and the birds? They are whispering the world to sleep. Oh wishes, which always stir in my heart without rest or peace! Longing which troubles my breast, when will you rest, when will you slumber? Oh yearning wishes, when will you fall asleep to the whispering of the wind and the birds? When my spirit no longer hurries on the wings of dream into golden distances, when my eyes linger no more with longing glance at the eternal distant stars; then will the winds and birds whisper in harmony with my longing and life.