Der Lindenbaum

By the well before the gate
There stands a linden tree;
I dreamed in its shade
Many a sweet dream.

I carved in its bark
Many a dear word;
In joy and sorrow
It always drew me to it.

Today I had to wander
Past in the deep night,
There, in the dark,
I closed my eyes.

And its branches rustled
As if calling to me:
Come here to me, my friend,
Here you will find your rest!

The cold winds blew
Right into my face;
My hat flew from my head,
But I did not turn back.

Now I am many hours
Away from that place,
And still I hear it rustling:
You would find rest there!