With blushes she bends to the water
Once more her head so sweet—
Then sees she the poor pale fellow
Lying before her feet.
16.
If thou hast good eyes, and look’st
In my songs, when thou hast tried them,
Thou wilt see a fair young maiden
Wandering up and down inside them.
If thou hast good ears as well,
Thou canst hear her voice quite clearly,
And her sighing, laughing, singing
Thy poor heart will madden nearly.
For she will, with look and word,
Thee, like me, make wellnigh crazy:
An enamour’d springtime-dreamer
Thou wilt tread the forest mazy.
17.
What drives thee on, in the spring’s clear night?
Thou hast driven the flowers all mad with fright,
The violets tremble and shiver;
The roses are all with shame so red,
The lilies are death-pale, and hang their head,
They mourn, and falter, and quiver.
O darling moon, what an innocent race
Those sweet flowers are! They are right in this case,
I really have acted badly;
Yet how could I tell that in wait she would lie,
When I was addressing the stars on high,
With fierce love raving so madly?