_She_. How soft the night wind strokes the meadow grasses
And, breathing music, through the woodland passes!
Now that the upstart day is dumb,
One hears from the still earth a whispering throng
Of forces animate, with murmured song
Joining the zephyrs’ well-attun?d hum.
_He_. I catch the tone from wondrous voices brimming,
Which sensuous on the warm wind drifts to me,
While, streaked with misty light uncertainly,
The very heavens in the glow are swimming.
_She_. The air like woven fabric seems to wave,
Then more transparent and more lustrous groweth;
Meantime a muted melody outgoeth
From happy fairies in their purple cave.
To sphere-wrought harmony
Sing they, and busily
The thread upon their silver spindles floweth.
_He_. Oh lovely night! how effortless and free
O’er samite black-though green by day–thou movest!
And to the whirring music that thou lovest
Thy foot advances imperceptibly.
Thus hour by hour thy step doth measure–
In tranc?d self-forgetful pleasure
Thou’rt rapt; creation’s soul is rapt with thee!
(Eduard Morike)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Soul Poems, Music Poems, Breathing Poems, Swimming PoemsBased on Keywords: imperceptibly, groweth, tranc, spindles, samite, floweth, effortless, uncertainly, movest, self-forgetful