FOURTH EPISTLE
Solitary stands the castle mirrored in the lake and deep
In the waters clear for ages quietly its shadows sleep,
There it rises in the silence, high above the ancient trees,
Throwing darkness on the waters ruffled by the summer breeze.
Inside one can see but faintly through the panes of arched bays
Folded curtains like the hoar-frost glinting in the twilight rays.
Over forests trembling rises now the moon and burning grows,
Mossy rocks and tree-tops painting ’gainst the sky, their beauty shows;
Those tall oaks, a guard of giants, tow’ring high there, on the azure,
Her bright orient bed seem guarding like a precious, secret treasure.
There the white swans softly gliding through the reeds come from their nests,
Lonely lords of quiet waters, in this calm the only guests,
Now they soar, their heads uplifting, and their outspread wings they shake
Cutting undulating circles, glowing furrows on the lake;
By the waves moved quiver rustling all the rushes in the thicket,
In the grass with flowers fragrant drowsy chirps and sighs a cricket…
O how sweet the summer breathing, sweet the voices of the night!…
Under the veranda sighing stands a solitary knight.
All the balustrade is hidden under woodbine, roses rare,
Their intoxicating perfume has embalmed the evening air;
With the night’s bewitching fragrance drunk now all his senses are,
Over this whole charm of nature sweetly ripples his guitar:
„Come in thy white silken garment, with its long train, which doth seem
All with silver dust bespringled, come again my dearest dream.
All my life thy radiant presence I shall worhip, lady mine,
With thy slender hand caressing those soft golden curls of thine.
