The time approaches for me to part!
Now winter’s voice is compelling;
A bird of passage, I know my heart
In other climes has its dwelling.
...
I lay on my heathery hills alone;
The storm-winds rushed o'er me in turbulence loud;
My head rested lone on the gray moorland stone;
My eyes wandered skyward from cloud unto cloud.
...
Ah starling! Most welcome, you bird of good cheer!
Are we to have all your pranks again here?
Where have you stolen last winter your wine?
Last time you dined down at Mosel and Rhine,
...