(From the German of Fredrich Matthison.)
I think of thee
When through the brake
The nightingales sweet music make.
When dost thou think of me?
I think of thee
By the shady well,
Under the twilight’s glimmering spell.
Where dost thou think of me?
I think of thee
With pleasant pain,
With yearning, while the hot tears rain.
How dost thou think of me?
Oh, think of me
Till in some star
We meet again. However far,
I think of none but thee.