Reflections
English Translation © Richard Stokes
Beneath the water of the dream that rises,
My soul is afraid, my soul is afraid.
And the moon shines into my heart
That is bathed in the dream’s source!
Beneath the sad tedium of the reeds,
Only the deep reflection of things,
Of lilies, palms and roses,
Still weep on the water’s bed.
One by one the flowers shed their leaves
Upon the firmament’s reflection
To descend, eternally,
Beneath the dream’s water and into the moon.
Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder (www.oxfordlieder.co.uk)
