Into the circling choral dance of shadows that trampled the soft meadow

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 * * *

Into the circling choral dance of shadows that trampled the soft meadow,
I merged with my melodious name,
But everything melted away and only a faint sound
Has remained in my misty memory.

At first I thought my name seraphic
And I shunned by slight body;
Some days passed and I fused with it
And dissolved into the sweet shadow.

And now once more the apple tree sheds its wild fruit
And a mysterious image gleams at me,
Blasphemes and curses itself
And swallows coals of jealousy.

But happiness rolls along like a golden hoop
Fulfilling another's will
And we chase after the light spring
Cleaving the air with our palms.

And things are so arranged that we do not leave
The enchanted circle.
The tensile hills of the maiden earth
Lie tightly swathed.

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The note on the translation: