Oh, rest your oars and let me drift
While all the stars come out to see!
The birds are talking in their sleep
As we go by so silently.
The idle winds are in the pines;
The ripples touch against the shore.
Oh, rest your oars and let me drift,
And let me dream forevermore!
The sweet wild roses hear and wake,
And send their fragrance through the air;
The hills are hiding in the dark,
There is no hurry anywhere.
The shadows close around the boat,
Ah, why should we go back to shore!
So rest your oars, and we will float
Without a care forevermore.
Oh, little waves that plash and call,
How fast you lead us out of sight!
And we must follow where you go
This strange and sweet midsummer night;
The quiet river reaches far—
The darkness covers all the shore;
With idle oars we downward float
In starlight dim forevermore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem