III
Josef Štýbr translation
The humming of the trees has ceased, Their leaves breathe calmly, neatly; The bird is dreaming its fair dream So quietly, so sweetly. The heavens’ stars have all come out, All things rest in calm gladness, But in the breast the sorrow wakes And in the heart the sadness. The fragrant blossom’s pretty cup Receives dew in its centre— My God, and I, too, feel that dew In mine eyes gently enter.