LXVI (Posthumous)
Josef Štýbr translation
The moon sails slowly in the sky So calmly and so freely; The nightingale wails in the twigs So sweetly and so really. Thy image stands in front of me So calmly and so freely; The heart in longing wakes and calls So sweetly and so really. A swarm of songs is circling ’round So calmly and so freely; And into mine eye steals a tear So sweetly and so really. Now gentle sleep knocks at my door So calmly and so freely— And I recall Thee to my mind So sweetly and so really.