So I’ve truly lost you, dear one?
Have you truly from me flown?
In my accustomed ears still sound
your every word, its every tone.
Alike the wanderer in the morning
who vainly gazes skywards,
when in the vast blue realm, hiding,
he hears the singing of the lark:
Such wanders here and there, restless,
my gaze across the land;
to you sounds all my songs, my dearest;
please come back to me again!
— translated by K-M Skalkenæs, 31/1-2013