By the brook, many small flowers stand;
Out of bright blue eyes they look;
The brook - it is the miller's friend, -
And light blue shine my darling's eyes;
therefore, these are my flowers.
Right under her little window,
There will I plant these flowers,
There will you call to her when everything is quiet,
When her head leans to slumber,
You know what I intend you to say!
And when she closes her little eyes,
And sleeps in sweet sweet rest,
Then whisper, like a dreamy vision:
"Forget, forget me not!"
That is what I mean.
And early in the morning, when she opens the shutters up,
then look up with a loving gaze:
The dew in your little eyes
shall be my tears,
which I will shed upon you.
Poem by Die Schone Mullerin By Wilhelm Muller music By Franz Schubert Op. 25