The evening is melodious calling,
For all forest songs are so high and near;
The light from the day sky is down falling,
In the eventide I now closely hear:
The nightingales have started their singing,
Memories from the recent glossy sights;
Yearnings, into a heart they are bringing,
Before the day turns off the sunny lights.
Dimmet is more and in silence pulling,
With its hanker tunes sweet and somberly;
And when the birds stop their drowsy lulling,
The nightfall will slumber again on free.
All what is gone therefrom, in dreams can live,
It is for the heart to desire and give.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem