In the woodland’s depth and quietness
where armies of singers rest,
where the soul have listened often-long
to the birds and their happy song.
There is such idyllic peacefulness
in the woodland’s loneliness,
and the longings of the heart end here
where peace and rest are near.
Hear the village bell begins to toll,
announcing the evening’s fall.
Little mockingbirds before their rest
still twitter a little bit.
In the marsh the loud quark of a frog,
now steams the field and bog.
With the bell’s silencing, evening brings
its peace as it slowly sinks.
— translated by K-M Skalkenæs, 14/5-2013
Original: I skovens dybe stille ro
Text by: Fritz Andersen, 1864