Blauen Frühlingsaugen, Die
Die blauen Frühlingsaugen
The deep, blue eyes of Springtime
Peer from the grass beneath;
They are the tender violets
That I will twine in a wreath.
I pick them and I ponder —
And all my hopes and aims,
All of my hidden fancies
The nightingale proclaims!
Yes, all that I think, he echoes
In a loud and lyric mood;
And now my deepest secret
Is known to all the wood.
The deep, blue eyes of Springtime
Peer from the grass beneath;
They are the tender violets
That I will twine in a wreath.
I pick them and I ponder —
And all my hopes and aims,
All of my hidden fancies
The nightingale proclaims!
Yes, all that I think, he echoes
In a loud and lyric mood;
And now my deepest secret
Is known to all the wood.
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