Good morning, beautiful millermaid!
Why do you so promptly turn your little head,
As if something has happened to you?
Do you dislike my greetings so profoundly?
Does my glance disturb you so much?
Then I must go on again.
O let me only stand from afar,
Watching your dear window,
From afar, from quite far away!
Your blonde little head, come out!
Come out from your round gate,
You blue morning stars!
You slumber-drunk little eyes,
You flowers, troubled with dew,
Why do you shy from the sun?
Has night been so good to you
That you close and bow and weep
for her quiet joy?
Now shake off the gauze of dreams
And rise, fresh and free
in God's bright morning!
The lark warbles in the sky;
And from the heart's depths,
Love calls away suffering and worries.
Poem by Die Schone Mullerin By Wilhelm Muller music By Franz Schubert Op. 25