Frühlingsglaube
The gentle breezes have awakened,
They whisper and float day and night,
They create on all sides.
O fresh fragrance, o new sound!
Now, poor heart, be not afraid!
Now all, all must change.
.
The world becomes more beautiful with every day,
No one knows, what may become,
The blossoming will not end;
It blooms in the farthest, deepest valley:
Now, poor heart, forget thy pain!
Now all, all must change.
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