The lark rises into the blue,
the mellow wind mildly blowing;
his lovely mild breath revives
and kisses the field, the meadow.
Spring in all its splendour rises,
ah all hardship is over,
sorrow becomes milder,
good expectations,
the belief in happiness returns;
sunshine, you warm us,
ah, all is laughing, oh,oh awakes!
A fountain of songs is rising,
who has been silent for too long;
from the brush sounds clear and light
the sweet voice again!
Ah, gently the nightingale lets
stream the first notes,
so as not to disturb the queen;
hush, all you other singers!
More powerful soon chimes her sweet voice.
Oh, soon, oh, oh soon!
Ah........
Oh, song of the nightingale, sweet sound, ah yes!
Glowing with love, ah, ah, ah,
sounds the song, ah and the sound,
sweet and cosy, seems to carry a plaintive note,
ah, ah rocks the heart to sweet dreams,
ah, ah, ah, ah, most gently!
Longing and desire
ah, ah, ah lives in my breast,
ah, if the song anxiously calls for me,
from afar the stars twinkle,
ah, ah in shimmering magic like the moons beam,
ah, ah, ah, ah wavers through the valley!
As haltingly vanishes the night,
the lark starts to sing,
ah, the light she promises,
shadows recede! Ah!
Ah springs voices sound like home,
Ah yes, ah yes oh sweet sound,
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah yes.
