Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Wayfarer's Evening Song lyrics
Over every hilltop comes repose. From every treetop there blows barely a breath toward you. Birds in the woodland cease their song. Wait, now. Before long You will rest, too.
Over every hilltop comes repose. From every treetop there blows barely a breath toward you. Birds in the woodland cease their song. Wait, now. Before long You will rest, too.