I think yours when the sun shines from the sea. I think yours, when the moon's flicker paints itself in the springs. I see you when the dust rises on the distant road, In the dead of night, when the wanderer trembles on the narrow walkway. I hear you when the wave rises there with a dull rustle. In the quiet grove I often go to listen, When everything is silent. I am with you, you are still so far away, you are close to me! The sun is sinking, soon the stars will shine for me. Would you be there! JW von Goethe
