Verse > Anthologies > Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. > A Harvest of German Verse
Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans.  A Harvest of German Verse.  1916.
Under the Linden-tree
By Walter von der Vogelweide (1170–1228)
UNDER the linden-tree
Upon the heath,
There I lay with him.—Alas,
When you go there, you’ll see
The flowers beneath        5
Crushed and trodden with the grass.
By the forest in the dale,
Sweetly sang the nightingale.
I strolled unto the green:        10
My lover true
Was waiting there impatiently.
Such welcome ne’er was seen—
Ah, if you knew!
My heart still throbs in ecstasy.        15
Kisses?—Thousands—more!—he took:
See, how red my lips now look!
How he caressed me there,
If anyone        20
Should know: alas, how I should blush!
And all our pastime fair!
Ah, none, none, none
Shall know, but he and I—hush, hush!—
And the birdie on the tree.        25
May that ever silent be!

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