| Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916. | | | | To the Moon | | By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) |
| | | BUSH and vale are filled by thee | |
| With a silver haze, | |
| And my soul thou hast set free | |
| With thy soothing rays. | |
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| And thy gentle beams descend | 5 |
| Kindly where I go, | |
| Like the mild eye of a friend | |
| On my joy and woe. | |
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| Echoes of the times gone by | |
| Tremble through my heart, | 10 |
| 'Twixt delight and grief I ply, | |
| Evermore apart. | |
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| Dearest river, flow, oh flow! | |
| Joy cannot abide. | |
| Play and kisses vanished so, | 15 |
| Faithfulness beside. | |
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| Once—oh, could I but forget!— | |
| It was mine: the rare! | |
| And it is a torture yet | |
| Memories to bear. | 20 |
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| River, flow the vale along, | |
| Without rest or ease, | |
| Murmur, whisper to my song | |
| Gentle melodies! | |
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| Swelling in the winter night | 25 |
| With thy roaring flood, | |
| Bubbling in the spring’s delight | |
| Over leaf and bud! | |
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| Blessed is he who walks apart, | |
| Though no hate he bears, | 30 |
| Holds a friend within his heart; | |
| And with him he shares | |
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| All that steals, by men unguessed, | |
| Or by men unknown, | |
| Through the maze of his own breast | 35 |
| In the night alone. | | | | |
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